


An Exercise in Reciprocity

by Nejinee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A comedy of errors, Bisexuality, Drinking, Eventual Smut, Getting Together, Humor, Karasuno Family, M/M, Made For Each Other, Pining, Sex, Training, Volleyball, canon adjacent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 50,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24844201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nejinee/pseuds/Nejinee
Summary: Karasuno has a long way to go before they reach the nationals and they are relying on Ukai to get them there. So, no pressure at all.Takeda-sensei is the surprising and frustratingly endearing ally who has stepped up to assist.Ukai has no idea what he's doing with the team or with his feelings for Takeda, but he's damn well going to give it his best shot.
Relationships: Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin
Comments: 73
Kudos: 352





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These two pseudo-father-figures are my latest pet project.  
> If you want to read about two grown-ass men trying to figure out how to move around one another, as well as indulge in the antics of the Karasuno volleyball family, strap yourselves in. We're heading to Love Town, population: all of us.

Losing to a formidable opponent is one of the worst feelings in the world.

Keishin can't believe he has to go through this again. He's experiencing all of the bad feelings and upheaval involved, only this time he's doing it as a coach. It's moderately good to know that it still sucks.Looking around the table, he can see that not much has changed over the years. The Karasuno volleyball team was sitting around the long table, holding back their tears and shovelling food into their mouths, ensuring they wouldn't have to talk about the beat-down they just received at the hands of Aoba Johsai.

Sawamura had already given a great speech to the team about resilience and pride–he did a much better job of it than Keishin–and the team had nodded their heads, intent on getting through this by eating their feelings. What more could Keishin do, really?

Even Takeda-sensei was solemnly silent, picking through his own rice bowl.

Keishin waved the owner over.

“What would you like, my dear?” she said kindly.

“Two beers, please,” Keishin said, holding up his fingers, “for me and the sensei here.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay–“ Takeda said, looking up quickly. The sensei's desire to not be seen drinking or doing anything remotely adult in front of the kids was very endearing. Keishin was not endearing, he was a cranky bastard.

“On me,” Keishin insisted.

Takeda looked at him, managed a small smile, nodded, and went back to his rice.

He eyed the team as they tried to keep it together. Yamaguchi wiped at his eyes. It sucked. Keishin picked up a slice of grilled pork and bit off a chunk, recalling the many times he and his own teammates had sat here, devouring their weight in food after many losses and, unfortunately, very few wins. This was the thing about competitive sports: there were fantastic highs and really awful lows.

There were murmurings coming from the other end of the table. Kageyama was grumbling something to Hinata, who frowned with a full mouth, eyes wet, focused intently on his dish. Those two really couldn’t keep it together long enough to be civil, huh? Keishin would put money on them throwing grilled eel across the room at any second. 

He cleared his throat. "You all played well," he said loudly. The players looked over at him, all of them tired and teary-eyed. "And you will play even better next time. I promise. Take this loss as a lesson, something to learn from. Remember how it feels right now. It's only up from here."

The third years nodded their acknowledgement, but the rest of them fell back into a torpor. Keishin sighed. He understood how they felt. Hell, he was probably going to cry when he got home, who knows? Even Tsukishima, the blocker devoid of any emotional attachment to the game, was all frowns and tight lips. Keishin smiled. _That_ was volleyball. When it got you, it got you good.

An hour or so later, the sun dipped beyond the horizon, bathing the restaurant with a warm pink light, and most of the team had packed up and gone, having given their thanks and left in twos and threes.

“Sawamura, Sugawara,” Takeda said to the last two students on their way out.

“Sensei?” they blinked back across the small restaurant. Keishin looked over at the captain and vice-captain, both of whom appeared tired physically, and drained emotionally.

“Thank you both for being such exemplary team leaders,” Takeda said with conviction in his voice. “You held the team together, and you both set a great example to the first and second-years. They are lucky to have you. We all are.”

“Ah,” Sawamura nodded his head abashedly, “thanks, Takeda-sensei. It's hard work.”

“It didn’t help as much this time,” Sugawara sighed loudly, head tilting back. “But thank you also.” 

“Go home, get some rest,” Takeda said with a warm smile.

The players waved, Sawamura holding the door open for Sugawara, and then they were gone, leaving Keishin with Takeda.

“Another beer?” Keishin said, clinking his empty mug against Takeda’s.

“I shouldn’t,” Takeda said, then visibly sagged into himself. “But with the students gone, why not?”

Keishin put in their order and called for the bill. This was the teacher's first time, probably, feeling the sting of public defeat.

“It sucks, huh?” Keishin murmured, staring into the middle distance.

“Yes,” Takeda sighed. “It hurts to see them all so upset as well. If the boys weren’t so broken up about it, I might not feel quite so down, you know? They put so much into this match.” Takeda looked up at him and Keishin was reminded, not for the first time, how expressive the sensei’s eyes were.

“Well, we weren’t up against a bunch of newbies,” he sighed loudly, wishing he could smoke indoors. “Seijoh _is_ one of the best teams in the prefecture; with the best setter.”

“Oh, yes,” Takeda nodded. “I see now what you meant about Oikawa being a real threat. And there I was thinking he was tough in the friendly match.” He shook his head. “Maybe it’s because they’re all still children in my eyes, that I couldn’t imagine anyone like him having that much of an effect.” He stared at nothing, clearly in thought.

Their beers arrived and Keishin thanked the waitress. He handed Takeda his drink and they clinked their glasses together. Keishin took a long, deep, deserving glug. He could feel Takeda watching him drink, watching him swallow. When he pulled away, half of the beer was gone. Takeda blinked owlishly. If Keishin wasn’t sure that the sensei was, in fact, two years older than him, he’d assume the guy was a cute university kid lost on his way to class.

“Yeah, Oikawa’s a beast on the court,” Keishin said, setting his glass down and smacking his lips. “Watching the videos of his plays made me kinda sick, if I’m honest.” He looked down at Takeda, “I wasn’t about to tell the team though,” he grinned.

Takeda smiled and sipped at his giant tankard of beer like it was a cup of tea. _Well, that's adorable,_ Keishin thought idly.

“I really didn’t understand,” Takeda sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know enough about the game and it’s so frustrating. I shouldn’t have been so blown away by his skill, by the whole of Seijoh. They are very... elite? Is that the word?”

“Actually,” Keishin leaned down, elbow on his knee, “From the perspective of any volleyball player? Oikawa alone was well above-average. I was impressed and I _knew_ what to expect. So don’t go feeling bad or nothin’ about what you do or don’t know, sensei. You’re learning. It takes time.”

“Hm,” Takeda frowned, a tiny groove settling between his brows. “I understand, but it’s still awful to realize how very little I comprehend about basic gameplay." His fingers curled tightly around his beer. "I want to be of use to the team, I want to contribute. But I can't. I just don't know anything.”

“You do, though,” Keishin frowned, “how else would we be able to even _get_ to these matches? You raised so much funding already _and_ you convinced those bastards at Nekoma to practise with us. That’s a huge contribution, sensei.”

Keishin watched the other man’s features twist and bubble under his annoyance and couldn’t help thinking about how he wanted to soothe those worry lines _._

He sat up and cleared his throat. “Well, if you still feel so bad about it, then I’m here to remind you that you can ask me anything, okay? I can answer your questions about volleyball, players, moves, everything.” He grinned at Takeda, “Just don’t ask me anything about physics or finances and we’ll get along just fine.”

Takeda blinked, then smiled wide. “I think I’ll be taking you up on that. Consider this my promise to learn more and become a better assistant coach!”

“Ah, I’m the assistant coach, remember?” Keishin laughed.

Takeda frowned, “I don’t consider you that way, at all, Ukai-kun. You are far too knowledgeable. But I will endeavour to become a better coach, one the team can rely on as much as they rely on you.”

Keishin raised his glass and Takeda mirrored him.

“All right, then we practice, we learn and we eventually beat the pants off Seijoh. Yes?”

“Yes!” Takeda grinned, leaning close in to clink their glasses and instead, sloshed beer all over Keishin’s pants.

* * *

“Everybody line up!” Keishin barked. “Today, we’re serving.”

The grumbles and groans were like memories filtering in via his ears. Was every generation of players this loathe to learn the basics? _Probably._

“Now, now,” Takeda said from Keishin’s left, where he stood, notebook and pen in hand. “You are all very lucky to be receiving lessons from one of Karasuno’s best service aces.”

The wavering line-up of students perked up.

“We are?” Yamaguchi said.

“They are?” Keishin frowned and whispered under his breath.

“Your coach himself used to be on the Karasuno team, you know!” Takeda said loudly.

The teenagers looked half interested, half bored out of their minds. Keishin understood.

“Ah, I wasn't exactly a service ace, sensei,” Keishin said awkwardly.

“That’s not what I heard,” Takeda said, eyes still on the high schoolers.

“I barely played in official matches,” Keishin said.

“Nonetheless,” Takeda said, voice getting louder, more adamant, like he could just drown out Keishin’s protests. “Your coach Ukai was known for being an excellent server and setter.”

_“Setter?”_

Keishin wanted to close his eyes and breathe deeply, but he also didn’t want to appear weak at the sound of _that_ voice directed his way. Looking over, he found Kageyama’s eyes fixed on him with a fire so terrifying it could burn a city to the ground. The boy’s _obsession_ with setters was getting a bit … unnerving. Did he even realize that there was no point targeting Keishin because he wasn’t even a rival in the same age group?

“Oh God,” Keishin rubbed a hand over the bridge of his nose, reeling in his annoyance. He really didn’t need a teenage fly buzzing about his head for this.

“Yes, setter,” Takeda cried, “Ukai-san wants you to all practice serving today! Let’s do it!” Keishin blinked, surprised and amused by Takeda's outburst of confidence. What the hell had gotten into him? He had been hyped up ever since their match against Seijoh, like a fire had been lit under his ass. The team groaned some more.

“I know you all think, ‘oh, I don’t need to serve that well when we have enough players who do it better’ but you never know how much easier it can get if you just _practice,”_ Takeda went on.

Yamaguchi clenched his fists and nodded fervently. Tsukishima looked like he wanted to turn around and leave, embarrassed in the face of Takeda’s ridiculous passion.

“ _Uss!_ ” Hinata bellowed like the complete wild child that he was. Sawamura grinned and Sugawara chuckled. Kageyama was still staring at Keishin like he wanted either to fight him, or maybe kill and eat him. Who knew with that kid.

“Ah,” Keishin paused before going on, “yeah, well, you all need to practice your serves. You saw Seijoh and how they work.” The team shuffled their feet, grumbling. “ _Exactly,_ ” Keishin said, folding his arms. “They didn’t get that way by leaving each separate role to each separate player. Their ace, what’s his name–“

“Iwaizumi,” Takeda provided.

Keishin blinked, “Right. Iwaizumi. You saw how he could serve and spike. That didn’t come from magic, you know. You saw Oikawa. He didn’t become Miyagi prefecture’s top setter by _not_ practising his serves as well. He was excellent. You know that.”

Kageyama looked livid at the memory.

“You want to work on not just your power in serving,” he looked at Asahi, “but also your aim, your targeting,” he looked at Yamaguchi. “It’s not enough to just be good at receives,” he cocked a brow at Nishinoya, “and there’s no harm in surprising your opponents the next time you see them.”

Tsukishima scowled. Keishin grinned. He was well aware of the blond’s penchant for rearing up against people who overshadowed him. Tsukishima had the height already, but he needed the practice. No harm in the boy knowing what was what.

“All right, let’s go. Half on one side, half on the other!”

The team split, Kageyama making sure he was on the opposite team to Hinata, of course. The competitive nature of their teamwork was baffling at times. _Teenagers,_ Keishin shook his head. If he was honest, he hadn't been too different at that age.

“You each serve and you each collect the balls for the next server. I want to see you go three at a time, then switch sides.”

The team barked out their assent. Keishin went to stand at the net, so as to see both sides well enough to judge.

“So what-er-are we looking for?” Takeda-sensei had sidled up beside him, notebook at the ready.

Keishin smiled. “Posture, mostly, but also pacing. I want them to count their steps, figure out their optimal placement behind the line if they’re doing jump-serves. If not, then how they angle their shoulders, where they hit the ball on their hands. Do we have any lefties?”

Takeda shook his head, scribbling furiously in his little book.

“Right, so we know what to expect. Maybe we should train them on using their less dominant hands as well.”

The two of them watched as the team starting running through the paces of serving.

“Tsukishima! Hit that ball harder.”

Tsukishima made a face, annoyed to have been caught out.

“Sawamura, good, but next time, I want you to try jump serving, you've got the height and the muscle. Use them both.”

Daichi nodded.

“Tanaka, you don’t need so much run-up. Two paces should be good for you.”

“Oh,” Tanaka blinked and scratched his head, “you got it, Coach.”

And the balls kept thundering across the court. Back and forth and back and forth.

Keishin frowned.

“You don’t look pleased,” Takeda said after twenty minutes.

“Some of them are fine, maybe they had better serving coaches in middle school, but the rest…”

“Why don’t you show them?”

“Eh?” Keishin blinked down at him.

“Show them,” Takeda said. “You play on the neighbourhood association team, so it’s not as if you’re out of practice, right?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Shimizu said, approaching from the left side of the court where she’d been collecting stray balls.

He didn’t _want_ to, but it was starting to make sense. _Show, don’t tell,_ his grandfather used to say. “Ugh, fine,” Keishin exhaled and unzipped his track jacket. “Here, hold this,” and he thrust it at Takeda, who almost dropped it.

“Ohhhh!” Tanaka barked, “Is coach-san going to give us a lesson?”

“ _Ohhhhh!_ ” both Nishinoya and Hinata cried out, bouncing on their toes.

“Shut it,” Keishin said, stretching his arms over his chest.

He took a ball from Asahi.

“Okay, look. You all need to focus on relaxing. Breathe in. Take the six seconds after the whistle blow to centre yourselves.”

The players scooted back and gave him room behind the line. He held the ball out in front of him, the motion as reflexive at eating.

“Arm out fully,” he said loudly, “you're going to throw it straight up, then hit it with the palm.” He shifted his feet and angled his shoulders. “Sometimes it’s easier to aim when you point your shoulders that way. Not everyone needs to, but it can help. And don't forget to reset your feet. Toss, adjust, and move.”

He threw the ball into the air, hoping to the heavens that this wouldn’t turn out to be an embarrassing episode of him fucking up in front of his team, somehow forever immortalized in their tiny heads. He smacked it cleanly and it flew over the net, landing just inside the far corner. _Perfect._ Nishinoya and Hinata, on the other side of the net, yelled loudly.

“Did you aim for that spot?” Yamaguchi asked.

“I did,” Keishin said, hands on his hips. “Maybe we try that for now. Everyone needs to get it over the net and within that corner.”

He turned to Shimizu, “Can you please set up a zone for them? Sixty centimetre square.”

“Yes, coach,” she nodded and went to grab the masking tape.

“You three,” he pointed to Asahi, Kageyama and Yamaguchi beside him, “I want jump serves.”

Yamaguchi swallowed.

“It doesn’t have to be jump-floats, just get your aim right. Then you can start powering them up. You slowly upgrade the force behind each ball until you can confidently hit it where it needs to go. We’re doing this all day, guys.”

Everyone groaned some more.

“Can you show them a jump?” Takeda-sensei cried out from the net. Keishin scowled over at him and the sensei grinned.

“Fine,” he said at the team’s intrigued faces and cooing noises.

He waved them off and took three long steps backward. “I’m counting my steps because _I_ know how many I need. You need to figure that out. Try two, three, one, whatever. Everyone is different. Just don’t assume you can guess.” He eyed his three star servers, “Guessing gets us nowhere.”

He took a settling breath, then tossed the ball up in a high, slow arc. He ran up to the line, making sure not to cross it, then leapt.

“Whoa!”

He slammed the ball _hard_ and it rocketed over the net, bouncing just inside the corner. _Phew._

“Coach!” Nishinoya yelled, eyes sparkling. “You’re so cool!”

“That’s… that’s so good,” Asahi laughed, already nervous. “Wow.”

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Kageyama said, his eyes laser-focused on Keishin.

“One more!” Takeda said, tossing a ball his way. Keishin caught it, glaring over at his supposed ally. Takeda winked.

_Tch._

That shouldn’t work on him, but damnit, it did. He took his steps back, bounced the ball once, hefted it to his right hand, tossed, and made the run-up. He heard Kageyama gasp, then he smacked the ball over the net, into the corner again. _Yes!_

“Ohhhh!” Yamaguchi cried. “You used your left hand!”

“Coach is a lefty?” Nishinoya wailed.

“No,” Asahi laughed, “coach, can you switch hands?”

Keishin nodded and dusted his palms on his track pants. “Yeah, it was something I practised when I was your age. A card up my sleeve. If you can be ambidextrous on the court, you can change up your opponents' expectations.”

Kageyama's gaze was burning what felt like actual holes in his head, making Keishin regret ever showing them his neat little trick.

“I’m going to learn that,” the kid said, voice deep and terrifying with determination.

“Me too!” squealed Hinata from the other side of the court, once more sounding like a beached whale intent on grievous bodily harm.

 _“Shut up, you idiot,_ you can barely hit a ball as it is!” Kageyama yelled back.

Asahi placed a hand on Kageyama’s shoulder.

“I’ve had more years of doing this,” Keishin sighed, rubbing at his brow, “but again, I wasn’t a starting player when I was at Karasuno.” The team looked at one another. “Yeah, exactly,” Keishin said blandly. “If I wasn’t any good, then my teammates must have been amazing, right? _Right_. I want you all to practise every step, every beat of every move. Over and over until you improve,and you _will_ see a jump in your skills, I promise you.”

The team all bristled with what could be excitement, or perhaps fear. Keishin exhaled and went to retrieve his jacket, leaving the chattering bunch of boys behind him.

“Very, _very_ good, Ukai-kun,” Takeda murmured, smiling bright.

“Feh,” Keishin shrugged his jacket on. “They just better start paying attention.”

Takeda watched him with an excited grin on his face.

Keishin felt some whisper of pride well up inside his gut at that look. Okay, he wasn’t _that_ good. _Sheesh._

* * *

Another week flew by and Keishin was absolutely exhausted. He unlocked his apartment door, wondering what mess he was going to find, since he always got up early, and got in late enough to not have to clean up after himself. If he kept the lights off, he couldn't see his ramshackle untidiness, right?

He slipped out of his sneakers and peeled off the matching constricting socks. He lined his shoes up along the wall of the genkan, next to his flip-flops and casual sandals.

Flicking the lights on, he was met with empty dishes in front of the tv and a pile of laundry covering the small couch. He sighed and locked the front door behind him.

He dropped his bag on the low coffee table and unloaded his many notes and plans from the last week’s practices. He’d need to review them before tomorrow. Then he went about picking up the plates and glasses and beer cans left lying around from the weekend.

He had so much less time to hang out with friends these days that when they just showed up at his door, he felt compelled to let them in, regardless of whether he had work in the morning or not.

He was due to wake up at six, so it’s not like this evening in particular was going to be much different. But he felt it, the need to talk to someone who wasn’t covered in acne and running high on puberty alone, so he was setting himself up for many more nights where he and his friends caroused on terrible days of the week.

He began washing the dishes and setting them to dry in the rack. He had planned to cook up a week’s worth of lunches but just the thought of digging through his fridge for viable options made him want to sleep a thousand years.

He needed company. He needed the help. Being a functioning adult was just terrible.

He was gregarious by nature, getting his energy from others. It was part of the reason why he enjoyed coaching so much. Who knew he’d end up just like his own coach, tired, aching but pleased by a day’s volleyball training? Maybe this was what he’d needed all along.

He dried the dishes and put them away. If his mother could see his cabinets she’d be very unamused at how very few dishes he actually owned. Thankfully, she never needed to visit because he saw her every day anyway.

Yes, he had his friends and he had volleyball, but still. Keishin was missing something. He was missing some comfort, some warmth, something to settle into. He didn't know what or who that could be, but the urge continued to bubble under the surface of his day-to-day life.

He wiped down the counter and considered his options. There was a serious lack of queer people in this small town, there always had been. He thought back to his own high school days, back when he played with his friends, some of whom still remained. Better yet, he thought of Tachiyama, the ace for Karasuno, the idol of their team.

“Oof,” he exhaled and leaned against the counter. He hadn’t thought of _him_ in forever. Tachiyama had been tall and freckled and absolutely stunning on the court. The fact he had not gone on to become a pro still seemed a shame to Keishin. After all, how could the guy who played a mean rally like no other, and who made Keishin realize he _might_ swing more than one way, be nothing but a sales manager at some accounting tech firm in Sendai? It was fucking insane. A waste, really. 

Not that he was about to tell anyone else that little tidbit of Ukai history.

Thinking back on those days, those years when he’d yearned for Tachiyama’s attention, to be seen by someone so cool, so tall, _so handsome_ –he wondered what young Keishin would have thought of him, seeing his life as it was now. _Ugh._ What a rough time his teenage years had been. Realizing he was attracted to dudes as well as chicks had been a rollercoaster of an awakening.

He recalls the time he'd blurted the truth to his friends one night when they'd been out getting wasted. Thankfully, Keishin had good friends who didn't seem to care that he maybe liked dick. If anything, they loved it, because it meant they could tease him mercilessly not only about girls to set him up with but also their stupid cousins who were visiting from Tokyo. It could have been rougher, he could have had it worse, but Keishin was tall and big and scary enough that no one tried to mess with him. Looking like a complete delinquent had helped in at least one way. 

He thought back on his second year as the secondary setter. That had been Tachiyama's final year before he moved on. That had been the year Keishin discovered that no, he wasn't _the only_ queer and questioning guy on the volleyball team.

Getting with Tachiyama, getting to stare at his naked body in the club room while they changed, and getting to kiss him in said club room, had been the wildest ride of his young stupid life. Neither of them had been any good at anything, but it had set Keishin off on the bizarre and crazy trail of finding partners, finding guys and girls who wanted to spend time with him outside of volleyball and/or school.

Eventually, he’d come around to the idea that being bi wasn’t the end of the fucking world because, hey, more people to get with and apparently guys were way into whatever the hell it was he gave off. It had been a revelation and also a massive disappointment in terms of life goals. Now that he had more ideas and possibilities, they seemed to filter away. 

There were no gay bars in town, this wasn't the kind of place that could sustain a burgeoning queer community. Sure, he dated women but even then, the population was getting thinner each day as people moved to the big cities to look for work and, honestly, better prospects than what Keishin had to provide. The few interested people left he had either been with, or wanted nothing to do with. He was horny, not _desperate_ , for fuck's sake. It was the _worst._

He exhaled and wandered into his tiny living room. Gathering up his laundry, he went to drop it into the laundry basket just outside the bathroom. He cleared up the mess of volleyball and hentai magazines on the coffee table left lying around from the last time the guys had visited. If anyone stumbled into his home unannounced, they'd think he was some kind of sport-obsessed pervert.

He tossed the dirty mags and kept the volleyball ones. That ace from Shiratorizawa was headlining some article and he hadn’t had time to get around to reading it. Sensei had and Keishin wanted to know what hell he was talking about. Takeda’s eagerness was less overwhelming and more of a reason for Keishin to pay better attention.

He flopped onto the couch, long legs splayed over the opposite armrest. He should be getting showered and into bed, but he needed to go over his notes, damnit.

Instead, he stared up at the ceiling.

What was his plan here? What was he really doing? Ten years out of high school and he was still in the town where he grew up. It wasn’t _terrible_ , not really. He loved his family and he had great friends here… but he didn’t have a plan anymore. No five, ten or fifteen year plan. In high school, after his dreams of going pro had been dashed, he’d at least considered university, or some technical school back then.

He sighed.

He didn’t want any of that. He didn’t know what he wanted. Spending hours with young kids whose only focus was on their next spike or volley was starting to make him realize just how much he _had_ changed and how much he _hadn’t_.

His jeans pocket buzzed. Keishin frowned. Who the hell was up at this hour, wanting to talk? He shifted around and yanked out his phone. Eleven o’clock and someone was texting him. He squinted at the glowing screen. He blinked in surprise.

> Takeda-sensei  
> Good evening Ukai-kun. Sorry to bother you. You’re probably asleep, but I have great news!

Keishin blinked. _Huh._ He tapped out a response, annoyed that the teacher could lure him into late night texting with such an interesting morsel.

> Keishin  
> ??

> Takeda-sensei  
> Tokyo!

  
Keishin frowned. _Tokyo? Hm._

> Keishin  
> Nekoma wants a rematch?

> Takeda-sensei  
> Something like that. ^__^ Coach Nekomata has agreed to let us join in on the Fukurodani Group team training camp! Two weeks from now, when the school is on break. Five days at Shinzen High School.

Keishin sat up and stared at his phone, heart racing.

He tapped the button to call.

“Hello?” Takeda said on the other end. “Ukai-kun?”

“Are you serious?” he blurted excitedly. “Training camp? _With Nekoma?”_

Takeda chuckled, “That's right! And Fukurodani, Shinzen and Ubugawa as well. Isn’t this great news?”

“Sensei!” Keishin said with as much reverence as he could manage at such a late hour. “You are a miracle! You did this?”

“Ah, well,” Takeda stuttered, “I mean, I had enquired before and I think Nekomata-sensei was reminded of that, perhaps.”

“Ahhhh,” Keishin fell back onto his couch, eyes closed. “This is fantastic. They’re really good teams! Just what our bunch of idiots need, huh?” His mind raced as he considered the training options, the change-ups they could do!

Takeda hummed in agreement, “Mm-hm! I think so too. I was going to wait until practice tomorrow but thought you deserved to know beforehand.”

“Thanks,” Keishin said, opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling. “I appreciate that. I appreciate _you_ , sensei.”

“Oh, _well_ , I mean, um–“

Keishin grinned. He loved flustering Takeda. It was a simple pleasure he was always willing to indulge in.

“-It's fine, thank you,” Takeda finished in a rush. Keishin could just imagine how red the other man’s cheeks were. He was noticing it a lot more these days.

“Well, I’ll leave the good news to you, Take-chan. Let the team stew a little before you tell them tomorrow, okay?”

“I-uh, okay!” Takeda blustered. “Er, um, well I'll let you go. I'm sure you have, uh, other things to do. Good-night, Ukai-kun!”

“Night,” Keishin smiled and ended the call. 

He let his phone drop onto his chest. That sensei, wow. What a real go-getter he was. It seemed that all you needed to get shit done these days was blind, fearless determination and big brown eyes with long, dark lashes to seal the deal.

He stared at the ceiling a little longer, feeling a warmth settle in his belly.

“Ah, _fuck,_ ” Keishin said into the quiet of his home, realizing too late where this was going.


	2. 2

Hinata was bouncing around like he’d been fired from a cannon. “Tokyo, Tokyo, _Tokyooo!_ ” he kept singing.

Kageyama took a swipe at his head and missed. “Shut _up!_ ”

This was all happening during gameplay so it was no wonder they both dived for the same ball and almost cracked each others’ skulls together.

Thankfully, Nishinoya got there first.

“Here!” Hinata yelled, immediately running up to the net. Kageyama grunted but complied, catching and then swiftly tossing the ball cleanly, perfectly, to the redhead. Hinata jumped up and spiked it _hard_ , as if he weren’t the scrawniest player on the team. Keishin was never not going to be impressed with his speed. The blockers on the other side failed to stop the ball.

“Arms in, Tsukishima!” Keishin yelled. “You make room for the ball and Hinata’s gonna spike it right through again. Don’t make it easy for the opponent!”

Tsukishima turned, face a moue of annoyance. “Just because he’s a freak speed monster doesn’t mean I can block his every spike.”v

Keishin pursed his lips and walked onto the court. “Hinata is the least of your worries. You know he’s on your team, right? You’ll never have to go up against him in an official match.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes.

“I need you to work those long limbs and that height to their full advantage,” Keishin went on, “we're going to see Date Tech again if we get to nationals, you know. That Iron Wall isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

Tsukishima rubbed at his wrists. “I’m not as energetic,” he muttered.

“I can see that,” Keishin grinned. “But you can do better. If you practise your movements, fine-tune them, then they’ll come naturally and you won’t have to think about whether or not you’re flapping your arms around ever again.”

“ _Then_ I suppose you’d want me to practise something else, some other thing I should be working on?” Tsukishima said, deadpan.

Keishin slapped him on the back, almost knocking the wind out of him. “Yes! Now you’re getting it!”

He stepped back off the court, grinning at the kid’s annoyed expression. He wandered back over to Takeda. The game resumed.

“He’s lagging behind, isn’t he?”

Keishin looked down at Takeda. The sensei was scratching notes into the margins of his notebook.

“You making pages for each player now?” Keishin leaned in to get a better look.

“I’m trying to,” Takeda sighed, and turned the book up so he could read better, “But I may need to buy a book for each student. There’s so much to take note of.”

“Heh,” Keishin’s eyes skimmed over the scribbles and numbers that probably meant something to Takeda. “At least you’re using notebooks, sensei. Some of the pro coaches get their data compiled online and _that’s_ too much, especially for me.”

Takeda paused, eyes going elsewhere, somewhere Keishin wasn’t sure he’d want to follow.

A ball smacked the floor between them and Takeda jumped out of the way.

Keishin looked up and made sure to give Tanaka a sharp look. “Sloppy placement!” he barked.

“Sorry, coach!” Tanaka said, skipping back to his spot on the other side of the net. Nishinoya snickered. _Those brats._

“You know every time you hit Takeda-sensei or Shimizu-san, the whole team takes ten laps!”

Yamaguchi made a face. He was another one that needed to work on his aim. By god, Keishin was going to whip these kids into shape even if it killed him.

* * *

“So, realistically,” Keishin said as he walked down the street with Takeda. “How tough is it going to be to get those four idiots through their exams and to Tokyo?”

Takeda rubbed at his hair, “Well, I spoke to their teachers–“

“You’re not teaching them anything?”

“Ah, no, unfortunately,” Takeda smiled. “I don’t teach any of the players.”

“Damn,” Keishin sighed and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Not that I’d ask you to bend the rules for them, but it would have been a nice option in our back pocket.”

Takeda pulled at the strap of his leather messenger bag.

“Well, be that as it may, it’s not looking very good.”

“Hn,” Keishin sucked at his cigarette, making sure to blow it away to the left, so the wind wouldn’t carry it into Takeda’s face. “I’ll bet.”

“Ennoshita and Sawamura have promised to add lesson plans to the four players’ schedules.”

“Ah, yeah,” Keishin nodded, “Sawamura mentioned that. Said he couldn’t leave four of his key players to suffer.” Keishin smiled and looked at Takeda. “He said the team won’t get any stronger without them. Can you believe him? I swear he’s more of an adult than me.”

Takeda chuckled, “Sugawara said something similar.”

“I suppose sensei was an excellent student, huh?” Keishin said. He nudged Takeda’s elbow, “This way.” They turned down a quiet side street.

“Ah,” Takeda sighed, “no, well, I suppose I _was_ a good student. After all, I came back for more.” He laughed, his eyes closing. “But I also wasn’t involved in any extracurriculars, so my experience is different.”

“Hm,” Keishin nodded. He stopped and dropped his cigarette, stubbing it out with his shoe. He held up his hand, indicating the building to his left.

“Oh,” Takeda blinked up at the sign hanging over the restaurant they were in front of. “I’ve never been here.” He looked around, impressed. “I didn’t even know it existed.”

Keishin grinned, “You gotta hang with locals, sensei. We know all the best spots.” He held the door open and followed Takeda into the izakaya.

They took a small booth, nice and private, like the rest of the tables. It was a great place to hash things out, which was what they needed to do. Keishin ordered their drinks, promising Takeda that they weren’t getting wasted; not this time.

“Not if I have to do numbers,” Keishin grumbled.

“You were not an avid student, Ukai-kun?” Takeda smiled and shrugged out of his neat corduroy jacket, then dumped his bag onto the bench seat. He unzipped the bag and began pulling out his many notebooks.

“Does it look like it?” Keishin sat back, rearranging his legs under the table. He tried not to think about how Takeda’s shorter legs were probably neatly prim, poised at perfect ninety-degree angles somewhere between his own splayed knees.

Takeda looked up from arranging his papers on the table. “I wouldn’t assume you weren’t?”

“Hm,” Keishin hummed, “that’s a polite way to phrase it.” He sighed and drummed his fingers on the table. “No, I was a terrible student.”

Takeda stacked his things in some semblance of order. “I’ve found,” he said, opening up the topmost notebook and tugging a pack of thin highlighters from his bag. “That there are very few ‘bad’ students.”

“Oh?” Keishin murmured, intrigued by the array of pens and sticky tabs the teacher laid out between them.

“Yes,” Takeda nodded, “students have a lot to deal with. If it’s not something at home, it’s stress about exams, sports, friends, health, relationships–“

“Zits,” Keishin added in.

“Oh, bad skin, _yes_ ,” Takeda nodded, pointing a highlighter at Keishin. “It’s not easy for me to see any of my students as ‘bad,' not at school.”

“Well, that’s good for them , isn’t it, having you?” Keishin said. “But I really _was_ a terrible student.” He rested his elbow on the table, then pressed his cheek to his palm, relaxing into his side of the booth.

“How so?” Takeda said.

“I didn’t know shit,” Keishin grinned. “I wasn’t paying attention to anything, wasn’t interested in any subjects. I never read what I was supposed to, and when exams came ‘round, I always panicked and crammed like a complete idiot the night before, hoping I could get away with skimming everything. It worked–sort of. But I never got good grades. Only just passed.”

Takeda chuckled, “I have a couple of students like you in my one class. It’s tough to get motivated if the subject doesn’t intrigue you. Not like volleyball would, I gather.”

Keishin frowned, “What do you teach?” He wondered why he hadn’t asked this sooner.

“Physics and chemistry,” Takeda said, smiling brightly.

“Oh _no_ ,” Keishin grinned. “See I wouldn’t even have been in your classes. I’m way too dumb for that stuff.”

Takeda frowned, “No…”

“ _And_ it explains why none of our lucky four idiots are in your classes either. I can’t imagine Hinata trying to figure out chemical–er,” he waved his free hand around, searching for the word, “–equations _._ ”

Takeda laughed. “No, I suppose not. He’s not quite wired that way. I’m fairly certain Hinata has little volleyballs in place of blood cells running through his veins. His teachers like him, though. He’s friendly and helpful, which is a lot to ask for, apparently.”

Keishin snorted, “You should study them. You could x-ray Kageyama and find out whether the inside of his skull is molten or mikasa.” He tapped his own temple.

Takeda stared at him, eyes wide, clearly confused.

“The two types of popular volleyballs?” Keishin said, swirling his index finger in an approximation of the pattern around a ball.

“Oh!” Takeda blinked, then laughed. Keishin grinned, patting himself on the back for getting the sensei to smile like that.

Their waiter arrived with the sake.

“One bottle and then back onto water,” Keishin promised. He watched as Takeda poured them each a small cupful.

“To work!” Takeda grinned.

“Tokyo!” Keishin said and sucked his sake back.

Over the next while, they planned out the logistics of getting a horde of teenage boys to and from Tokyo on the limited funding they’d been able to accrue.

“Yachi’s posters really helped, didn’t they?” Takeda said as he tapped at the calculator he’d brought with him. He scribbled down some numbers on a clean sheet.

“I guess,” Keishin watched the sensei work. “She seems a good addition to the team.” Yachi-chan was very skittish and still pretty terrified of Keishin but he couldn’t really help with that. She was afraid of Asahi, for fuck’s sake, so _he_ had no chance of making her feel easy in his company. At least Hinata clearly adored her, and Shimizu seemed to have picked a smart junior manager (and not just some weird fangirl).

“Well,” Takeda sat back, underlining his last calculation. “with this budget,” he circled the number under a long column of numbers, “we should be able to rent a small van or bus. I can handle that part. I also spoke to the coach from Shinzen and we’ll all be allocated rooms to sleep in, so no need to book a hotel. Other than that, I don’t think we have any huge monetary concerns going in. Also, what do you say I draw up a list for the team, what they need to bring?”

“Yeah, please do,” Keishin murmured. “Itemized, rewarded with pocky or something to make them follow through. Those kids won’t bring their own asses if we don’t tell them to.” He exhaled, “Well, Sugawara and Ennoshita might. But the rest? We need to be on them.”

Takeda smiled and jotted something down. “So, they’ll need changes of clothes for five days, their sneakers, toiletries: toothbrushes, toothpaste–“

“Deodorant, _please god_ , deodorant,” Keishin said. He recalled his teenage years, and the nostalgic stink of the club room after a match would forevermore be seared into his brain. Teenage boys needed to be told the ramifications of letting their testosterone overrun their sweat glands. Might as well teach them now.

“Bed rolls,” Takeda tapped his pen against his lip, “I believe the cafeteria will be open while we are there, so that’s great. Breakfast, lunch and dinner will be covered. Part of the fee for joining will be to pay off some of that, of course. What else?”

“We should take extra equipment,” Keishin said, “balls, nets, salonpas. Have Shimizu pack up the first-aid kit. The team training vests. Can’t expect them to have enough for five teams of starting and backup players”

“Oh, yes!” Takeda scribbled madly. “See, this is why I need your input.”

The waiter appeared with the karaage and takoyaki they’d ordered.

“Mm,” Takeda said after taking a bite of takoyaki, “so good. I’m glad you introduced me to this place, Ukai-kun.”

“Ah,” Keishin waved him off, feeling looser in his bones, “my friends and I have been coming here since we were legal drinking age. You get used to it.”

Takeda looked around, probably noticing how busy the izakaya had become. “It’s popular,” he murmured around his mouthful. Keishin smirked. Sensei was very cute. His hair had started to curl even more in the humidity.

Keishin had brought them here because he knew they wouldn’t run into any of the brats, giving them some peace in which to plan out the Tokyo trip.

“I’ll need to book that week off work,” he said.

Takeda looked at him in alarm.

“Oh, of course. I didn’t think of that. I’m sorry! You shouldn’t have to miss out on–“

Keishin sat up and sighed. He rolled his shoulders. “Nah, it’s fine. My parents can manage the shop. Besides,” he smiled at Takeda, “do you really _not_ want me there to help keep the team in line?”

“Well, you’d be a very valuable asset,” Takeda grinned. “And I don’t know that I can actually keep any semblance of control without you.”

Keishin recalled the look of ominous fear on the players’ faces when they had to have sit-down chats with Takeda regarding their exams. The guy was alarmingly unassuming and also pretty scary.

“Oh, it could get weird,” Keishin laughed, “when my team used to travel, we caused such havoc. My ojiisan got so mad so often it’s no wonder he has a heart condition.”

“What did you get up to?” Takeda asked, biting into another takoyaki.

“Well,” Keishin sipped at his sake. “One time we snuck out of bed and went to swim in the swimming pool at whatever school we were staying at. It was the middle of winter, if I recall correctly and half of the team ended up getting terrible colds and snot-noses.” He closed his eyes and smiled, _ah, moronic teenage memories._

“It’s also probably good we aren’t travelling with any of the girls’ teams,” Keishin said, finishing off the last of the karaage, “with girls in the vicinity, teenage boys become the _most_ belligerent, showboating tools.”

“That is true, I suppose,” Takeda nodded. “Although… I don’t know that _if_ the team did something sneaky that we’d even be aware of it,” he said, considering.

“Well, if we wear them out properly they’ll be too tired to do anything at _all_. That might have to be our goal on this trip. I’m not a very good babysitter, sensei. Please don’t make me babysit them.” Keishin pouted.

“Lucky for you, I am an _excellent_ babysitter.”

“Comes with the territory, huh?” Keishin said.

“I think so,” Takeda grinned and swigged back his sake. “Now, how about we plan out a training lesson plan?”

“Sure,” Keishin said, sitting up properly. He pushed his empty plate away. “What have you got, sensei?”

Takeda explained his very detailed highlighting and tabs system he used for keep his notes in order.

“This is…” Keishin exhaled, pushing himself away from the table and leaning back. “This would have helped when I was in school.”

“For volleyball?” Takeda frowned.

“For anything,” Keishin grinned, “exams, volleyball, organizing a fridge full of onigiri, all of it.”

Takeda grinned, “It does help, yes,” he swiped his green highlighter over some numbers. Keishin assumed that it would mean something to him later, probably.

* * *

When Keishin came back from the restroom, he bumped into a familiar face.

“Oh, Ukai!”

Keishin blinked as a tall, dark-haired man approached, arms open wide. “Anoshita? Holy hell!” he said with surprise, automatically leaning into the hug hello. “When did you get back to town? I thought you were in Osaka?”

“I am, well, I was. I took some time off to come visit my parents. You know my sister’s getting married? Some fool marrying into my crazy family? He has no idea what he signed up for!” the other man pulled back with a grin and a laugh. He ruffled the back of Keishin’s hair. “And you! What’s this? What’s with the blond, eh? You still trying too hard to look cool?”

“Shut up,” Keishin grunted and slapped his hand away.

Anoshita smiled even wider and looked Keishin over. “You look good, though. I’m surprised you’re still around. It’s good to see you, a familiar face.”

“Ah, same to you,” Keishin murmured, taking in the man’s appearance. Anoshita used to keep his hair long and tied back in a ponytail, but it was gone now, trimmed down to a proper buzz cut; a real grown-up look. Was everybody moving onward, upward and away? “A lot of folks have moved away, so yeah.”

Anoshita raised his hand and gently ran his thumb across Keishin’s jaw. “You look real good, Keishin.”

_Uh oh._ “Ah,” Keishin grinned. “You still haven’t found ‘the one’ and settled down, huh? I thought that’s what you went to Osaka for? You come back here and suddenly feel all desperate and lonely? Can’t you be desperate and lonely in Osaka?”

Anoshita shrugged, “You know me.”

“Unfortunately, I do,” Keishin couldn’t help laughing.

“Always the smart-ass,” Anoshita tilted his head toward a nearby table of guys. His friends, it looked like. “Anyway, I’m in town until the weekend, if you want to catch up, get some drinks?” Anoshita quirked a brow in a way that a much younger Keishin would have absolutely read into and fallen for. But he was older now, wiser even.

“I’ll think about it,” he muttered, then winked and squeezed past, giving Anoshita’s shoulder a tap as he went. “Stay in touch, man.”

He shook his head, amused at the way people could still flow in and out of his life like the tide. He looked up and was caught by Takeda watching him.

Shoot, had the sensei just witnessed that little encounter? _Crap._ What if it weirded him out? How was Keishin going to explain the openly physical companionship he typically found in other men he’d grown up with? How would he explain the closeness, the touches? The easy affection? Not that Keishin was contemplating taking Anoshita up on his offer or anything… not that that had anything to do with Takeda. He wasn’t really interested… but still. He’d forgotten Takeda was even sitting across the room.

“I’m back,” he said briskly, sliding into his seat.

“Ah, the bill came and went,” Takeda said, focused on putting his wallet back inside his jacket’s inner pocket.

Fuck, was this gonna be weird? How had it even looked, seeing Keishin with Anoshita? Was the casual chit-chat blasé enough to pass for random acquaintances catching up, or did it look like previous sexual partners flirting a little too naturally?

“How much do I owe you?” he said instead, bluffing his way through his perilous thoughts.

“Nothing,” Takeda smiled up at him. “This place is so affordable.”

“Sensei, come on, we split the bill.”

“Then you can pay next time.”

“Oh?” Keishin paused. He tried not to read into any of what was happening but his brain kept skipping ahead to all the possibilities.

“What, you think we _won’t_ be planning our trip to the spring tournament? We have a lot more to do as coaches, you know? I’m not giving up just yet. We have fundraising to do and equipment to upgrade. We’ll be back.”

Keishin watched the other man fumble with his bulging bag, trying to get it over his shoulder without spilling his meticulously stacked notebooks all over the floor.

Okay, so maybe the thing with Anoshita hadn’t registered… or it didn’t matter. That was good, right? Maybe sensei wasn’t bothered about these things. He could be either naive or unbothered, both of which were better than expected, if Keishin was honest.

Keishin got to his feet and held his arm out, “Well, next time the bill’s on me.” Takeda scooted out of his seat and nodded fervently.

He ambled over to restaurant door and headed out into the evening, leaving Keishin to wave and give his good-byes to the waitstaff.

“Thanks for handling the finance part of all of this coaching business,” Keishin said as they began the walk back up to the main road. The sun had set and the sky was a clear, deep indigo. “I don’t know how my gramps pulled that off when he was coach. We’re not a mathematical family. We’re all sport idiots. I’m starting to think the team managers might have just done the dirty work while he sat back and barked orders.”

Takeda chuckled in that way that made Keishin automatically smile in return. “It’s okay, it’s what I can do with confidence, for once. I’m happy to help.”

“And,” Keishin said, leaning sideways, hands in his tracksuit pockets, “if we can just get through the next week without any of us, or the team, breaking any bones, we should be good for Tokyo.”

“Yes! Tokyo!” Takeda cried, mimicking Hinata with his fists raised high into the air, and Keishin laughed.

* * *

It was early, the sun just rising over the trees around Karasuno High School and Keishin was making a face.

“So, they failed their exams, huh?” he said, tossing the bag of volleyballs into one of the open seats in the front of the rental van. Shimizu handed him the box of vests and he shoved it along the next seat.

“Unfortunately,” Takeda sighed, hand on his forehead.

“I’m sorry, sensei, coach,” Ennoshita bowed, “I could have done more.”

“Ah, stop apologizing when you were the one cramming with the second-year idiots,” Sawamura cut in, exasperated. Tanaka made an aborted whine of indignation, but he was still drowsy. “I was responsible for keeping an eye on that dynamic duo.”

“Dumbass duo,” Keishin clearly heard Tsukishima mutter under his breath.

“I’m sorry too,” Yachi said from somewhere behind Shimizu. The girl was always just out of sight from Keishin. Apparently she thought he was a murderer? Serial killer? Something like that. He’d given up trying to rationalize his continued existence on the team. “Hinata’s mistakes proved that he had studied well, but I couldn’t help him check his answers!”

“Ah, Yachi-san, please don’t worry,” Takeda sighed. “They will take their make-up exam,” he eyed his watch, “in an hour or so, and if all goes well, maybe they won’t miss the first day of training.”

“The exam wasn’t even that difficult,” Tsukishima piped up. He was twiddling at his phone which was already hooked up to his huge headphones.

Keishin took two more bags from Sawamura and threw them into the van. “Well, they miss out, they miss out,” he said. “Everyone’s bags in the van?”

The motley crew of kids all nodded or made grunts of assent.

Tanaka and Nishinoya looked dead on their feet as they leaned against one another. Keishin shook his head, already exasperated. Was this what it felt like to be a parent? He could never.

“I can’t believe we made it to this day,” Sugawara grinned, bright as the sunrise itself. “I’m excited to see what Fukurodani has to offer!”

“I heard their ace is a powerhouse!” Yamaguchi said, leaning into the vice-captain’s space.

“I heard the same thing,” Asahi said, looking pale already.

“It’s all right,” Sawamura smacked Asahi on the back, hard, “maybe you’ll learn to get over yourself while we’re there.”

“Eh?” Asahi cried.

“Yeah!” Sugawara laughed, “Maybe once you realize _everyone’s_ a viable, terrifying opponent and no one’s special, maybe then you’ll stop freaking out before all our competitions.”

“Guys…” Asahi wavered on his feet. “I thought you were my friends…”

“All right, everyone in the van!” Keishin grunted. “It’s three hours to go and we might just miss the morning traffic. This is Tokyo, remember? It’s a different pace.”

“Yes, coach!” the team said in unison and filed onto the van one-by-one.

He watched them select their seats and wasn’t surprised at the pairings. They really were a predictable bunch.

Keishin wanted to have one more smoke before they hit the road but he didn’t want to waste any more time. Instead, he walked over to Takeda, who was checking off something in his notebook. “We all good to go?” he murmured.

Takeda looked up at him and blinked. “Oh, yes! Sorry, I was just–“

Keishin held up his hands and grinned, “No rush. Take your time.”

Takeda made a face over Keishin’s shoulder. “Uh, isn’t that someone you know?” he pointed.

Keishin turned on his heel. “Oh!” he cried, eyes widening, “Shimada? What are you doing here?”

“Hey!” the other man jogged up, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m so glad I caught you before you guys left. I couldn’t remember if you’d said seven or eight AM.”

“Hello,” Takeda held out his hand. “Takeda Ittetsu. I believe we met before when the neighbourhood team played with Karasuno?”

“Oh, you’re Tadashi’s sensei-coach!” the other man leaned in to take his hand. He wore glasses and a bright, friendly grin. His hair was neatly combed and parted down the middle, even this early in the morning. He held out a plastic bag emblazoned with the Shimada Market slogan. “Brought some energy drinks and bags of dried fruit for the team; courtesy of the Karasuno cheering squad.”

“Squad?” Keishin snorted. “Is that what you two are calling yourselves?”

“Oi,” Shimada scowled, “there’s _three_ of us now. Tanaka’s sister is as much a fan as we are.” He wiggled three fingers in Keishin’s face, which Keishin swatted away. Shimada hissed.

Takeda grinned, taking the bag of goodies, “Thank you! This is very kind. I will make sure the students all give their thanks too.”

“Sure, sure. Just remember to tell Tadashi to make sure he breathes,” Shimada said solemnly. “He was so nervous yesterday he almost had a panic attack.”

“Oh?” Takeda blinked, immediately concerned.

“Ah, yeah,” Keishin scratched his chin, “sensei, this guy’s been teaching Yamaguchi a few things. Serving, mostly.”

Shimada nodded, “He’s not perfect yet, but he’s getting used to it, I think. I hope you train him better Keishin. I told him you’d help if he just asked. You’re not _that_ terrible.”

Takeda looked between the two much taller men. “Yamaguchi? He _came_ to you for lessons?” he sounded stunned. Yamaguchi wasn’t known for speaking up, least of all on his own behalf.

“That he did,” Shimada grinned. “After we played you guys that time, my floats impressed him so much he chose to seek out the _master_.” He placed his fists on his hips and laughed like an idiot.

“Uh huh,” Keishin rolled his eyes. “If he’d been to the last neighbourhood match, he would have seen what a fraud you really are.”

“Psh,” Shimada made a face. “Keishin, you’re an old man already! Sensei, tell me he’s old like his gramps! C’mon, Keishin, let a kid dream of being a pro, and let me believe I’m a great sensei.”

“You’re a great flat-footed server, is what you are,” Keishin retorted. “I’ve seen you flub a simple setter toss from right in front of your nose.”

“Ah,” Takeda smiled, “Ukai-kun is probably trying to say _thank you_. We certainly love and _need_ –“ he looked at Keishin sharply, “the community support.”

Keishin stuck his tongue out and Shimada mirrored him. Takeda looked between them. They burst out laughing.

“Well, good luck, men,” Shimada said, nodding to them both. “Don’t break those kids, okay? They’re pretty much our only hope left.”

“Eh…” Keishin shrugged.

“And you tell Naoi I said hi,” Shimada folded his arms.

“I’ll tell his nasty ass you miss him,” Keishin snorted.

“That’s what I said!” Shimada laughed and patted Keishin’s shoulder. “Good luck!”and he turned to head back to his car.

Takeda and Keishin watched him go.

“He’s nice,” Takeda murmured. He looked down at his armload of goods, “And generous. We must definitely purchase snacks at his family store more often.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” Keishin sighed and pressed his hand to the small of Takeda’s back. “My family store comes first, remember? Charity begins at home. Come on, sensei, we’ve got a hot van of cranky teenagers to deal with. Let’s not keep them waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and thank you for the comments and kudos so far. <3


	3. 3

“Settle down, come on!” Keishin clapped his hands loudly, the sound echoing around the large volleyball gymnasium.

Naoi chuckled loudly, “ _Eh,_ Karasuno, your coach is speaking.”

Keishin shot the man a look. “ _Eh,_ I see Nekoma’s still searching for a good coach, Naoi,” he retorted. The bustling crowd of boys shuffled around, finding seats on the floor. They were getting rowdy, comments already flying between the teams.

“Now, now,” Nekomata-sensei chuckled and held up his hands. The crowd went quiet almost immediately. Keishin wondered if one day he’d have that kind of gravitas. Though truthfully, if he ever did, he’d probably use his power for nefarious reasons. “Welcome everyone!”

The crowd clapped politely. There were a _lot_ of kids. Takeda-sensei came to stand beside him, all but glowing with pride in his black Karasuno tracksuit.

“The Fukurodani group of teams would like to welcome the crows of Karasuno,” Nekomata said. More polite clapping, “It’s been a long time since we’ve welcomed anyone else into our training sessions. Fukurodani, Shinzen and Ubugawa are family. And Nekoma has a long history with Karasuno going back a generation or two. They’re almost family!”

“Distant hick cousins more like,” one of the Nekoma boys muttered, causing a ripple of chuckles to radiate through his team.

Keishin looked at his own team. Without Hinata and Kageyama, they looked almost calm and collected.

“We’re lucky this year to be hosted by Shinzen Academy,” Nekomata-sensei gave a small clap and everyone followed suit. “As well, we are very thankful for the managers of each team who have stepped up to assist the coaches in training.”

The clapping was much louder this time. The female managers were lined upperpendicular to the coaches, against the wall. Keishin could see why the teenage boys were clapping and whooping. He sighed. Girls really were every teenage boy’s weakness, huh?

“Now, to kick things off,” Nekomata went on, “Naoi-sensei and Sasagawa-sensei will do a quick presentation going over the rules of the Fukurodani Group training camp. Because I am old and have no interest in this, I will be stepping aside for the boring work.” He grinned and the crowd of Nekoma boys cheered wildly.

Keishin had to hand it to the old guy. He definitely had the loyalty of every team he trained. He hadn’t changed much.

“Thank you, Nekomata-sensei,” Naoi said, falling into his role as assistant coach with ease. He waved at two managers, who dragged over a free-standing presentation easel. “We’ve all got some rules to follow, not just for gameplay, but ensuring we all maintain some semblance of order and good manners.”

Keishin zoned out as the managers flipped through big sheets of paper with marker-drawn rules and regulations everyone was expected to follow. He’d leave all that stuff to the other coaches. Besides, he got the gist. These things never changed, not really. No rough-housing, no sneaking off school property, no illicit anything, no bullying, no mischief, no sneaking food into bed, no bothering the girls, no leaving a mess, _etcetera._

Naoi droned on and on and Keishin watched his former opponent wax poetic about cleaning and setup/takedown procedures like he was born to recite rules. _Huh._ _Guess everyone has to grow up some time,_ he thought.

“And lastly,” Naoi grinned at Keishin, which was not a good sign. “It’s been a long time since Karasuno played against us here. It’s been over a decade, I believe, eh, Ukai-sensei?”

Keishin narrowed his eyes and folded his arms. “Uss,” he muttered.

“So as a special treat, I’d like to show the teams what it was like back then." His grin grew wider as he spoke to the students. "While you all were running around the playground, your coaches were in high school. Well, most of us."

Keishin frowned and looked to Takeda. Takeda shrugged. Naoi flipped the large paper pad over, and the grouping of boys in front of them all started making noises like braying sheep.

“Ohhhh, coach, is that you!” One of the Nekoma boys laughed and pointed.

Keishin looked over at the board and recoiled. “Hey!” he cried out.

“This is what your coaches looked like when we were your age!” Naoi grinned.

“Where did you dig that up from?” Keishin hissed, staring at a series of blown-up pictures from his youth. They’d obviously been printed out from a cheap inkjet. It looked like every coach was represented in some form. Keishin blanched at a photo of his own teenage mug. His sullen, seventeen year-old face stared back at him from beside a very old photo of what must be Nekomata-sensei when _he_ was young.

“Oh, Nekomata-sensei was good-looking!” an Ubugawa student cried out. The crowd of boys howled with noise.

“I believe,” Nekomata smiled, “I still am.” Which sent the crowd of boys into fits of laughter.

Keishin scowled at Naoi, “You bastard,” he mouthed and Naoi grinned wider somehow.

“What’s a little trip down memory lane between friends?” Naoi said.

“I can’t believe coach was so young,” Sugawara said. “Eh, Takeda-sensei? What do you think? You were so small!”

Keishin blinked, realizing one picture was of a short, curly-haired nerd in oversized glasses. Keishin leaned in for a closer look. He turned back to Takeda with an arched brow. _Cute._

Takeda chuckled, “We were all young once.”

“You were a looker, coach!” Tanaka brayed like an idiot. “Even without the dyed hair!”

Asahi and Ennoshita nodded, like Keishin was their prefectural beauty pageant representative, or something.

“Our coach was handsomest!” Nishinoya yelled, leaping to his feet, arms raised. “Karasuno wins!”

“Oi, not possible!” the libero from Nekoma barked right back. Keishin wondered if that guy had a temper problem.

“Ukai-coach was a handsome dude!” Nishinoya wailed to the heavens, undeterred.

The Nekoma team booed and made rumbling noises of disagreement. Keishin covered his face with both hands.

Takeda laughed. “Ukai-kun, you seem embarrassed by the attention.”

“Naoi, you bastard,” his hissed under his breath. He dragged his hands down his face, wishing he was dying, if not already dead. “Oi, Nishinoya,” Keishin snapped with a _look_. “ _Sit._ ”

Nishinoya complied, flopping to the ground but he was still grinning like a devil at the other libero, sparks flying between them.

“What a stupid thing to argue about,” Keishin rubbed his fingers between his eyebrows.

Takeda chuckled beside him, “I suppose we should expect all kinds of competitiveness going into this week.”

“And our loudest brats aren’t even here yet,” Keishin sighed, already feeling tired down to his bones.

Takeda tried to cover his laugh but it came out like a muffled snort. How fucking endearing was that?

* * *

Over the next few hours, Karasuno got put through their paces. As first days went, it wasn’t too bad.

At 12, they broke up for lunch, the stream of boys barreling towards the cafeteria like a herd of buffalo.

Keishin sat with the rest of the coaches at the back of the cafeteria, as far from the loud students as they could manage without actually being outside. He left room for Takeda, who was talking to the managers lined up for food. Takeda had taken on the duty of keeping the managers informed and training them in basic managerial duties. He was getting to know them all, something the other coaches hadn’t bothered to do, and was helping them organize the teams they were assigned to. Honestly, Keishin wouldn’t even have thought about training up the managers but it actually made sense. If they could learn to take notes, track players and pinpoint changes and irregularities, they’d probably be better assets to their respective teams. Though, going off the few hours they’d been here, Keishin was certain the girls were leagues ahead of the boys when it came to basic competency and awareness. He’d already seen two idiots take volleyballs to the face.

“You seem to be missing a couple players, Ukai-sensei,” Nekomata said, settling into the seat across from Keishin.

“That noticeable, huh?” Keishin nodded.

“How could we not notice?” the old man grinned like a wily cat, “you’ll need them to win, won’t you?”

“When you figure out how winning works,” Naoi added.

“All right, I know, I know,” Keishin said, pointing his chopsticks at the Nekoma coaches. “We’ve got work to do. Why do you think we’re here, huh? Bottom of the trash heap but we gotta start somewhere.”

Nekomata chuckled, “Just like your ojiisan.”

Keishin grunted. He was used to the comparisons by now. The Ukai name worked in his favour, if only in a volleyball context.

“Oh, Takeda-san,” the Ubugawa assistant coach said. “You finally made it.”

Takeda trotted up to their table, plate laden with food. “Ah, forgive my lateness.”

He slid into the seat beside Keishin. He pushed a water bottle over. Keishin blinked.

“Shimizu-san said you haven’t had a drop to drink all morning,” Takeda said.

“Oh,” Keishin blinked. “Thanks. Didn’t realize.”

“You’re attentive, Takeda-sensei,” Nekomata murmured. “That’s good.”

“Well, I do what I can with my limited skillset,” Takeda said nervously.

“You do tons,” Keishin said around a mouthful of rice.

“This is your first team?” Aragawa piped up from Keishin’s left side, “your first time training?”

“Yes,” Takeda said. “So I’m learning a lot. Thank you all for welcoming us here, by the way.”

“Does he ever stop saying thank you?” Nekomata asked Keishin.

Keishin looked at Takeda, who was blushing now. Keishin swallowed his mouthful, took a sip of water, then said, “Sensei is polite for the both of us.”

“That is true,” Naoi murmured, “Ukai never was one for being a role model.”

“Oh, like you ever were,” Keishin said.

“Now, now,” Nekomata chuckled. “I meant it in jest.” He grinned at Takeda. “Sensei, it is refreshing to find someone who is very dedicated to helping their team get ahead in whatever way is manageable.”

“Don’t fall for his nice old man act,” Keishin said out the side of his mouth. “Nekoma didn’t get to where they are on charm alone.”

Takeda still looked flushed but he was smiling, excited. “We’ve come to learn how to beat you,” he said with determination. Keishin felt a weird flutter in his chest at the look in Takeda’s eyes.

Nekomata grinned and Keishin wouldn’t have been surprised to find a long, lazily-waving tail curling up from behind the old man.

* * *

“Nekoma is a defense-centric team, aren’t they?” Takeda said. He was sitting beside Keishin as they watched Karasuno’s third match of the day.

“Yeah,” Keishin murmured, keeping his eye on that goddamned Nekoma libero. He looked at Takeda, who was writing in a new, massive notebook with different tabs sticking out of it. “You tracking our opponents?”

“Uh huh,” Takeda scribbled something down and then grinned. “I’m not letting _anything_ slip by.”

Keishin nodded and turned back. He was hyper-focused on Nekoma. They had time enough this whole week to work on Karasuno, so he needed to pull what he could from their rivals first. “Nekoma is heavy on defense because a good defense, if used correctly, can be offensive in its own way.”

“Ah?” Takeda murmured. “How so?”

“See the blockers?” Keishin nodded with his chin.

“They’re all very tall,” Takeda murmured, “taller than all of our middle blockers. And that really tall one wasn’t in our last match, was he?”

“No, he was not,” Keishin muttered, annoyed that Nekomata had kept the half-Russian kid under wraps until now. “But you see how they all immediately fall into block formation the second the ball goes back over the net?”

“Yes?” Takeda seemed unsure.

“They know that even if the blockers don’t pass for a spike, they can dump or maybe just intimidate on size alone. They can knock back a lot and they all train heavily on receives. Actually, sensei, make a note of that. We need to practice digs. Maybe every time we play… Fukurodani.”

Takeda nodded and flipped to another page in his book. “Because Fukurodani is heavily offensive?”

“Exactly,” Keishin sighed, thinking to the first time he saw the Fukurodani ace make a spike. “We’ll focus on defense with them and offense with Nekoma.”

They watched Asahi go up for a spike. Nekoma blocked it easily.

“All good, Azumane,” Keishin said loudly. “Next time.”

Asahi looked a little crestfallen, but he jogged back into position. Sawamura said something and patted his back.

Nekoma was all grins from the other side of the net.

“Their captain is very good,” Takeda murmured, scribbling something down.

“Yeah, annoyingly so,” Keishin rested hischin in his palm. “Their libero as well.”

“Their setter is small though,” Takeda said. “If he went up against our Kageyama, would it matter?”

Keishin tilted his head, eyes now on the Nekoma setter. This kid was unreadable, which was enough of a reason to keep an eye on him. “I’m not sure. Sugawara’s doing fine. Setters aren’t really up against each other for the most part, but I know what you mean. Sugawara isn’t like Kageyama. But that setter… something’s up with him. Can’t tell what, though.”

“Oh?” Takeda murmured.

“Hm,” Keishin chewed on his lower lip. “He’s not doing much. I’m not sure if it’s because we’re just beginning, or if he’s always slow.”

The Nekoma setter barely moved, just kept his eyes trained on the ball. Keishin watched the captain block a shot that almost hit their setter in the face. The captain said something to the setter, who just made a hell of a face in response.

“Hm,” Keishin hummed.

* * *

“These flying falls…” Takeda murmured, watching Karasuno drag themselves around the perimeter of the gym on their bellies. “They look painful.”

“Ya,” Keishin stood up and stretched his arms over his head. “It’s a good technique, though.”

“Learning to fall?”

“Basically,” Keishin grinned, “if you can learn to land on your front using your hands, you’re less likely to land on your elbows.”

“Which would mean less…broken bones?”

“That’s it, you got it, sensei,” Keishin laughed, “when I was in school I once saw a kid break his arm in a hard fall. We all heard the bone crack. It was _bad_.” Keishin gritted his teeth.

“Oh,” Takeda’s eyes were wide. He’d taken off his track jacket and tied it around his waist. It made him look even younger somehow. “We don’t want any broken bones.”

“Preferably not,” Keishin said, “screaming teenagers make my ears hurt.” He pointed a finger at Takeda, “No comments about me being an old man!”

Takeda grinned, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

* * *

When Kageyama and Hinata _did_ eventually show up, it was to a lot of very unnecessary fanfare. Keishin didn’t understand kids anymore.

“Oi, chibi-chan!” the captain of Nekoma bellowed across the gymnasium, “finally thought about showing up, huh?”

Hinata was flushed with excitement and bouncing on his feet. Keishin could see the thrill of it just bristling over him.

“Kenma!” Hinata yelled, waving like an idiot.

The setter from Nekoma looked up and gave a small wave in return.

“How do they know each other?” Keishin asked Takeda.

“I have no idea,” Takeda shook his head. “Hinata seems to make friends wherever he goes.”

“ _Ugh,_ stop wasting time!” Keishin barked, making both Hinata and Kageyama jump. “Get warmed up, you two! We’re playing our next match in ten minutes!”

“But I’m hungry…” Hinata muttered, dropping his bags against the far wall.

“You should have eaten a curry bun,” Kageyama retorted. “And taken a nap, like me.”

“Why would I want to be like you, Kage-baka,” Hinata said.

“Hey,” Keishin walked over to them. “You two are late because you messed up, remember?” he said, voice low. Both boys looked up at him and gulped. “Don’t start off training camp on the wrong foot.”

“Yes, coach,” they both said, backs straight.

“And you,” he pointed a finger at Hinata, “I want you to tell me what you know about Nekoma’s setter.”

“Kenma?” Hinata blinked at him, “What about him?”

“Hinata, you realize we play to win, yes? If you have any insider knowledge on how to beat them you tell me, okay?”

Hinata’s face got all screwed up. “Kenma’s my friend!”

Kageyama, for some reason, looked pissed about that little tidbit. "And you're too stupid to know what to look out for anyway, _boke._ "

Hinata scrunched up his face. Keishin put a hand on the kid's shoulder.

“Just remember who your coach is,” Keishin grinned evilly, and turned, walking back to Takeda. The rest of Karasuno had definitely been listening in on that exchange. Good.

“Very scary, Ukai-kun,” Takeda murmured. Keishin glanced down at him.

Takeda was smiling that small, secret little smile of his.

“Are you mocking me, sensei?” Keishin leaned down in a whisper.

Takeda looked up, their eyes connecting. “Not at all. I actually thinks it’s a good idea to put them in their place sometimes. They need to respect their coach, after all.”

Keishin narrowed his eyes. “You are not as sweet and soft as you appear, Takeda-san. I see you.”

Takeda shrugged and went back to taking notes, that small smile still in place.

* * *

Keishin was stuffed. Cafeteria-style dinner was too much. He just couldn’t say no to that much food.

He wandered the cold halls of Shinzen, looking, searching… “Naoi said it was… two lefts, a right, and next to, ah!” He found the locker room.

He pushed the door open, towel and toiletries in hand. The communal shower reserved for third-years had been allocated to the coaches, thank god. It was large, open and tiled in gradated green from floor to ceiling. _Well, no accounting for taste,_ Keishin thought idly. The wall of shower heads were separated by metal bars which made zero sense to Keishin, but then again, he wasn’t a contractor or design expert.

“Oh, Ukai-kun.”

Keishin paused at that voice. He turned and found someone sitting on one of the wall benches.

He blinked. “Takeda?” Keishin asked warily. The man seated on the bench was freshly showered, hair curling into wet tendrils over a flushed, rosy-cheeked face with wide brown eyes.

The other man laughed, “Ah, Ukai-kun,it _is_ you. Thank goodness. I guessed based on your hair colour.”

Without his oversized glasses, the sensei looked completely different. Ukai noticed he was sitting with a towel draped over his lap, clearly in the middle of drying himself, or perhaps taking a moment.

He had such pale skin… “Uh,” Keishin flushed, realizing he was staring, “Sorry. Didn’t realize you were here.”

“That’s okay,” Takeda said, standing up and tying his towel around his waist. “The other coaches finished up not too long ago. I thought it might be quieter.”

“I’ll be quick,” Keishin murmured. He hadn’t factored in the possibility of seeing Takeda like this. Why hadn't it crossed his mind? Of course they'd be sharing the same facilities. He dropped his change of clothes onto the bench, then slowly undressed, dropping his gear in a pile. He picked up his towel and headed over to a nearby stall. He twiddled the knobs and buttons, trying to figure out the new, modern shower setup. “Ay, cold!” he hissed, stepping away from the spray.

“Oh, yes, the pipes take a while to heat up,” Takeda laughed from across the room.

Keishin tried not to think about how sensei was probably able to see his ass from where he sat. Keishin was used to communal showers but he wasn’t used to having the focus solely on him. He yanked the elastic ties out of his hair and wrapped them around his wrist. Now was not the time for a leisurely cleanse. Not when he had an audience. That was too weird and too much to think about. He made quick work of his scrub-down, deciding to leave his shave for the morning.

He rinsed the suds out of his hair and revelled in the spray of hot water as it cascaded over his face. It always felt good at the end of a long day to burn the stresses away. He nudged tap off, already missing the heat of the spray, and grabbed for his towel which was draped over a metal separator bar. He scrubbed the towel over his face, attempting to squeeze out the tiredness and tension hiding under his skin. He turned.

Takeda was still sitting there, watching him, like it was nothing to see your colleague shower naked.

“You okay, sensei?” Keishin asked, rubbing his towel over his hair. He wondered exactly how much Takeda could see without his glasses.

“Ah, yes,” Takeda said, getting back to his feet. “I’m tired.” He was still in only a towel.

“Mm,” Keishin wandered over to the other man. He tried not to feel self conscious about his own nakedness. He wasn't fifteen anymore. He was twenty-eight. He shouldn’t be weird about it. It wasn’t like they had… anything going on. Takeda wasn’t interested in him. This was definitely not going to backfire in some way.

Takeda still had little droplets of water dotted over his shoulders and dripping down his soft, smooth chest. “You wanted some peace, huh?” Keishin said, drying his stomach, and then bending over to dry his legs. Takeda seemed a little out of it, judging by his glazed look.

“A little,” Takeda said, “I’m not used to this much all-day activity.”

Keishin dug through his pile of clothing. He pulled on his sweatpants, snapping the waistband into place. Takeda watched him still.

“You not getting dressed?” Keishin asked. "Or you sleeping here?"

“Oh,” Takeda looked down at himself, clearly forgetting where he was and what he looked like. “Yes, I should. Sorry.”

“No apologies needed,” Keishin said, squeezing water out of his hair. He let his eyes trail over sensei’s soft tummy and bare feet. His own feet felt grossly oversized next to Takeda’s.

Takeda turned to a bag that was sitting beside him on the bench. He pulled out some clothing and then got to his feet, and without any warning, dropped the towel.

Keishin held back a sharp inhale. _This shouldn’t be weird!_ he said to himself. _Stop making it weird, Keishin._ But Takeda’s ass was _right there_. It was small, and pale, and perfectly rounded. Each cheek would make a perfect handful.

 _God damn._ How was Keishin supposed to keep his dirty thoughts to himself if Takeda kept poking holes in his façade? He turned away and tugged on his own sleep shirt. It was an old band tee, faded from years of use. He wasted some more time combing his fingers through his hair, drying it as much as he could. He also needed his heart to stop thumping like a bird caught in a cage.

When he finally turned back, having run out of excuses to not stare, Takeda was fully dressed in black pyjama pants and a simple grey t-shirt which was, of course, tucked into his pants like some adorably infuriating dork.

Takeda slipped on a pair of adidas slides, not unlike Keishin’s own. Damn he was cute. _Fuck my life,_ Keishin sighed internally. Why was _this_ particular man drawing all of Keishin’s attention? It made no sense.

“Okay, I’m done,” Takeda said, zipping up his little bag of toiletries. He tossed his towel over his shoulder. “Ukai-kun?”

“Huh?” Keishin blinked, “Ah, yeah. Right behind you.”

They wandered back through the quiet school hallways. “You think the kids will behave tonight?” he murmured, still thinking about Takeda’s ass, like the pervert he was.

“I have little hope of that,” Takeda chuckled.

“I thought we’d be sleeping in the same classroom as them,” Keishin said.

“Ah, yes, well,” Takeda tilted his head from side-to-side, ”I spoke to the other coaches and it’s seen as a sign of trust to leave the teams to themselves. Let them chat and gossip without adult eyes.”

“But we squeezed Karasuno in with Nekoma? How does that make sense?” When Keishin had seen the large room allocated to Karasuno and Nekoma, he couldn’t help but hear sirens wailing in the back of his head. He really hoped the teams would get along.

“I believe Nekomata-sensei thinks it will foster camaraderie; bring them together?” Takeda shrugged, his towel flapping over his shoulder.

“Well, I guess we’ll see if they decide to keep the peace, or else we find a bloodbath in the morning.” He stopped outside the room he and Takeda had been assigned. "Blood is a bitch to get out of uniforms." They were next door to the managers’ classroom. A detail neither of them had overlooked.

“You think we’re sleeping here so the idiots don’t try to sneak in to see the girls?” Keishin asked.

“You think the managers won’t be sneaking around as well?” Takeda grinned, entering the room.

“Why would they?” Keishin sighed. The classroom he and Takeda had been assigned to was apparently some small study room used for cram groups. He went over to his bed roll and dropped his shower crap onto his gym bag. “You think the girls here are stupid enough to sneak around with the ignoramuses on the volleyball teams? How low are their standards?” Lord knows the girls in his day didn't want anything to do with the idiots he'd played with.

“Here,” Takeda held out his hand, “Let me hang up your towel by the window.”

“Ah, thanks,” Keishin threw his towel over.

“I don’t know,” Takeda said. He draped their towels over the open window pane. He had to balance on his tip-toes while Keishin watched. “I’m not an expert on breaking the rules, nor am I an expert on what teenage girls find attractive in teenage boys.”

“Who really is an expert?” Keishin said. He bent down to unroll his bed. He then kicked off his slides and settled down onto it, relaxing at last. He twisted his arm across his chest and clicked his back. Then he did the other arm. He rolled his head a couple times, feeling his neck decompress.

Takeda was fluffing and plumping at his own pillow, trying to make it perfect. He tugged out a large blanket and unfurled it over his bed roll. It was plain and nondescript. Unassuming, just like Takeda.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” Keishin asked, digging through his belongings for his lighter.

“Well,” Takeda laughed, “if you must. I understand the urge.”

“I’ll stand by the window,” Keishin murmured, already pulling a cigarette free from the pack. He got to his feet and lumbered over to the far corner. He unlatched the window and pushed it open, inhaling the cool summer night air.

Neither of them had turned on the light because the moonlight was enough to see by. Takeda padded over to slide the room’s door shut. “There we go,” he smiled.

Keishin lit up his smoke and inhaled. “Ohhhh,” he deflated, feeling the rush of nicotine through his veins. “What a day.”

“Wasn’t it?” Takeda shuffled around the room, unpacking his bag of belongings. He knee-walked across his bedroll while Keishin watched with amusement. Takeda had already hung up his and Keishin's Karasuno tracksuits and was now unpacking a roll of socks. Was he laying out his clothing for the morning? Keishin couldn't help being fascinated by whatever ritual this was unfolding before his eyes.

Takeda flattened out a fresh t-shirt, inspected it, then nodded, folding it to sit beside his socks on one of the few remaining desks in the room. Takeda lined up their sneakers against the table leg. Keishin looked at his own gym bag stuffed with whatever clean gear he'd had lying around at home.

Footsteps outside made them look up. Keishin placed his cigarette on the windowsill and quietly went over to open the door. If it was any of the boys making monkey business, they were in for a fucking scare. He slid the door open with a flourish.

Three of the volleyball managers glanced up at him with surprise.

“Oh,” he blinked. "Hello."

“Ukai-sensei,” Yachi-san blurted out. “We’re just heading to bed.”

“Ah, that’s good,” Keishin said, looking down the dark hallway. “Is everyone okay?” he asked awkwardly, unsure of what a sensei was supposed to do or say at such times.

Yachi nodded.

“Okay, good,” Keishin said. “We’ll do final checks on the teams in a little bit. You girls get to bed.”

They all nodded and headed into the classroom next door. When the door slid shut, he heard a burst of giggles erupt from inside. Keishin closed the door and turned. He exhaled, shook his head and went to reclaim his smoke. He dusted away the ash.

“Here,” Takeda came up and held out a small metal jar lid.

“Ah, thanks,” Keishin said, taking the lid and resting it on the sill. He tapped his cigarette against the edge. “Day one done, Takeda-san.”

Takeda nodded and plopped down onto his bed roll. He fell backwards with a sigh, arms flopping outwards like a downed bird. “I’m so exhausted!”

Keishin smirked, “Already? But we haven’t even started.”

“Hnnnn,” Takeda frowned. His hair was a mess of curls on his head. When had he put his glasses on? “I’m not cut out for this.”

Keishin stubbed out his cigarette and exhaled. He carefully closed and latched the window, then wandered over to crouch down on his bedroll. “Sensei.”

Takeda opened his eyes and blinked up at Keishin.

“You’re doing great,” Keishin grinned.

Takeda’s eyes flicked between his own, trying to read Keishin’s expression. Then he smiled.

“You too, Ukai-kun.”


	4. 4

“Coach?”

Keishin looked up from his phone as he entered the gymnasium. Hinata was waving him closer. Keishin scowled when he saw what the redhead and Kageyama were looking at. “Oh, I _told_ them not to put those pictures up!” he sighed melodramatically. Takeda, who had followed him from the cafeteria, chuckled quietly.

“Is this really you?” Hinata pointed at the photo of a young Keishin.

“Yessss,” Keishin rolled his eyes. He slid his phone into his pants pocket and zipped it up. “That is me; unfortunately.”

“Hmm,” Kageyama huffed and glared at the photo. “You didn’t grow much taller.”

“I was seventeen, kid,” Keishin growled. “Wasn’t much left to grow into.”

“Your hair was dark, though?” Hinata looked genuinely confused. “And super short. Coach reminds me of Tanaka-senpai.”

“He dyes it, you moron,” Kageyama said, looking at Hinata with pure disgust. “And obviously he grew it out. How are you this dumb? Are you actually seven years old?”

Hinata kicked at him. Kageyama kicked right back.

“Now, no fighting in the morning,” Takeda said with a yawn. “Use that energy for practice.”

“Oh, oh, Takeda-sensei, is this you?” Hinata tapped the image of the small curly haired kid. He grinned with unrepentant glee. “You were so cute! Look at your big glasses! And your round cheeks! How old are you here?”

“Um,” Takeda leaned in, “I think I was fifteen? This photo looks like it was from the national school–er– mathematics olympiad.”

 _Nerd_ , Keishin thought and smirked at Takeda, who made a face like he knew exactly what Keishin was thinking.

“I didn’t imagine our sensei was once this cute little kid,” Hinata grinned.

“People are going to say the same dumb stuff about you when you’re older,” Kageyama snorted to Hinata, “so rude.”

Hinata looked up at Kageyama. “Did you just say I’m _cute?”_

Kageyama froze up like a cat cornered in an alleyway, “ _What?_ No! Shut up!”

“You did!” Hinata pranced around from foot-to-foot with glee. “I’m cute! You said I’m cute! Just like Takeda-sensei! _Ahahahaha!_ ”

“ _Boke!_ ” Kageyama swiped at Hinata’s head and missed. He was getting very red in the face.

Keishin stared at the wall, wondering what choice in a past life had led him down to this awful moment in time. He looked at the many photos stuck to the wall. There was Naoi, still big and stupid as ever. The other coaches he hadn’t known back when they were in high school, so they didn’t matter as much. They just looked like your average high schoolers.

Takeda though…the little guy grinning out of the photo was… he was adorable.

“Fifteen, huh?” he murmured. “A baby sensei?”

Takeda nudged him with an elbow, “Hardly!”

“I bet you got all the girls, sensei,” Keishin grinned. “Once you grew into your glasses.”

Hinata laughed a little _too_ loudly at that. Takeda blushed. “Well, no, obviously not. I wasn’t tall, or handsome, or on a sports team.”

“Like ME!” Hinata yelled, chest puffed out. Kageyama kicked him in the back of the knee, causing him to crumple backwards like a detonated building. Hinata sprang back up and hared after him, screaming tame insults at Kageyama, wholobbed frankly horrific profanities back at him. That kid had _a mouth_ on him.

Keishin waited until they were out of earshot before murmuring, “I think you definitely would have turned a head or two.” He tapped the image of the nerdy kid and smirked.

Takeda blushed even redder, “Well, I didn’t.”

“Uh-huh,” Keishin raised his eyebrows and brushed past Takeda, smiling the whole way back to his court-side seat.

* * *

Keishin was very impressed with the Nekoma middle-blockers. He could tell that the newbie, the tall Russian kid, was still learning, still needed some training, but he seemed to take the captain’s feedback with a ton of grace. They all did. It’s like they just understood that the third-years had mountains more knowledge to share with them and that they should be grateful.

Keishin also watched Bokuto, the ace from Fukurodani, like a hawk. He really was spectacular. Keishin wondered how often these two teams played together. They were very well matched.

He watched the ball fly over the net towards Fukurodani. It was well received, then the setter passed it on, but who was going to–ah–Bokuto was there, ready. He smashed the ball across the net. “Bah!” he cried out when it was stopped by Nekoma’s block. The ball flew off to the side, out of bounds. Keishin gave the point to Nekoma.

“Heh!” Nekoma’s captain smirked. Kuroo, that was his name. “Not this time, Boku-chan!” He high-fived his vice-captain and then patted his setter on the head. Keishin narrowed his eyes. How had they known…

“Oi,” Keishin said, “Kuroo.”

The Nekoma captain perked up at the sound of his own name. “Yes, Karasuno coach-sensei?” he grinned like a feral cat.

Keishin snorted, “Nice. Wanna tell me how you knew Bokuto was going to aim that way before you jumped?”

Kuroo tilted his head. The kid was fucking _tall_. Jesus, if Keishin had been that tall in high school he probably could have gone pro on that alone. “Hm, is Karasuno looking for tips? Isn’t that cheating, coach? I thought you were just reffing for us? An impartial judge, no?”

Oh, he was a wily one. Nekomata chose them well.

Keishin snorted, “You know more than you’re letting on, Kuroo-chan.”

Kuroo peered at Keishin. “Karasuno should probably figure it out themselves.”

Keishin grinned, “Oh, we will, but we want to practise our options while we can.”

Kuroo flicked his hair out of his eyes. “Nah, Karu-coach. I kinda like knowing Boku-chan’s moves better than the rest. Gives us the edge, you know?”

Keishin exhaled, “All right. I get it. Let’s see how that works out for you.” He turned to the Fukurodani team who were all busy talking to their captain, flapping around him like a flock of caretakers. “Hey, ace!”

Bokuto turned, obviously just assuming whoever this ‘ace’ was had to be him. His eyes lit up and he hopped towards Keishin like a parakeet seeking out crumbs.

“Karasuno-coach-san!”

“Oh god, please, what is with you guys? It’s Ukai. Coach Ukai.”

“Oh, yes!” Bokuto smiled. “I remember now.” This kid was such an open book.

“You want a little tip?”

Bokuto’s eyes got wide and he leaned in. “Yes?” Keishin whispered his next words into Bokuto’s ear. Bokuto nodded, then grinned. “Yes! Awesome!” He twirled on his feet, arms going up. “Team! Come speak with your captain! I have grand news!”

Keishin went back to his spot at the net, Kuroo watching him with sharp eyes.

The next play unfolded and ended with Fukurodani absolutely _smashing_ their way through the Nekoma defence like it was made of paper.

“Ohhh, that’s not fair,” Kuroo whined, hands on his hips. “You gave them pointers or something.”

“Are you here to learn or not?” Keishin said. “Or are you here to complain? I’m just another coach. You can also ask me questions.”

“But not about Karasuno, I bet,” Kuroo said, tilting his head back with an air of annoyance.

“Probably not, no, but I’m not saying you can’t ask the other team coaches questions either. Plus there’s three more teams I’m watching. We’re here to beat them too. Now, you want to tell me how you knew where Bokuto was aiming that spike, captain?” Keishin grinned, mirroring Kuroo’s pose.

The Nekoma captain exchanged glances with his setter. Kenma, Hinata had said. Kozume Kenma. The setter seemed to consider something, then nodded ever so slightly at Kuroo, looking away from Keishin as he did so. Kuroo exhaled in a loud gust. “ _Fine,_ ” he said and Keishin’s eyes glinted with glee.

* * *

“You understand his methods yet?” Keishin murmured to Kageyama.

The boy glanced at him, wiping at his face with a towel. He looked very annoyed. “No,” Kageyama muttered and popped the lid on his water bottle.

“Me neither,” Keishin sighed and scratched his head. He watched Sugawara take the position of setter, organizing the team well enough without Keishin having to give input. “Gotta learn how he works.”

Kageyama threw down his towel. “I can’t read his set moves yet, but he definitely uses eye cues to distract us.”

“Oh?” Keishin looked over at his first-year setter.

Kageyama nodded, “Tsukishima keeps falling for it, and so does Tanaka. He'll glance to the side, like he's planning to set there but then throws us off with another move.”

Keishin looked across the court at the short Nekoma setter. “Hm,” he hummed, “he’s very good, even if he isn’t very strong.”

“He’s always getting told to move more by the coach,” Kageyama said. “Lazy guy.”

“Is it laziness or just simplified?”

“Eh?” Kageyama scowled.

“I mean, if his team understands how he works and they accommodate his limited movements into their strategy, then if it works, why not keep it up?”

“Because a setter should help drive the gameplay,” Kageyama grumbled. “The setter is most important.”

“Nah,” Keishin sighed and crossed his arms. “The setter is important, but so is every other position. What I’m saying is, they have fluidly adapted to whatever it is Kozume needs. He _must_ be good else they wouldn’t let him get away with it.”

Kageyama made a face no mother could love.

Keishin laughed, “Kid, trust me. Every team is different. We just gotta figure this one out.”

“Eh…” Kageyama scratched his head, “Maybe Hinata can ask him?”

“You think that’ll work?” Keishin laughed.

And just as they mentioned him, Hinata came flying at them, diving for a ball he didn’t have a chance in hell of receiving.

“Oi!” Kageyama barked and dodged the flying body. Hinata crashed and rolled across the floor like he had no bones.

“Hinata?” Keishin went over to help him up. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Hinata laughed and stood up, dusting off his shorts, “got a little overexcited there.”

“It was out, _boke_ ,” Kageyama snapped, “you should have let it go.”

“He’s got a point,” Keishin sighed. "Outs are as important as ins."

“Chibi-chan! Chiiibi- _chaaaan._ ”

Keishin turned.

Kuroo was leaning, fingers curled into the net, eyes on them, “You okay?”

“I’m fine!” Hinata grinned, waved, and jogged onto the court.

“You hit your face _a lot_ ,” Kuroo said loudly, while the other Nekoma players crowding around the net. _What a bunch._

“Don’t break your nose,” Keishin only just caught Kozume saying. “Kuroo broke his nose once when a ball smashed his face. It was gross.”

“Kenma…” Kuroo whined, “why was ‘gross’ the first word you thought of? Also, that was like ten years ago.”

“What else would I say?” Kozume blinked up at his captain. “You _looked_ gross with blood all splattered on your face. Your mom screamed _so_ loud.”

“I don’t know,” Kuroo bent down with a wry look on his face. “Maybe ‘concern’ or ‘ouch’ would have sounded better.”

“Okay,” Kozume rolled his eyes and looked at Hinata, “Kuroo broke his nose and he looked ‘ouch’.”

“Guh!” Kuroo threw up his hands while Hinata snickered.

Keishin scratched his head, watching Kozume, “We have got to figure that one out.”

“We could kill him,” Kageyama said softly, fist clenched.

“Ah…” Keishin paled, then patted Kageyama on the shoulder, “not quite what I was thinking. But you’ve got the spirit, I guess.”

* * *

“Shimizu-san,” Keishin waved the manager over. She handed the three balls in her arms to Yachi, who flailed.

“Yes, coach?” Shimizu said.

“Can you please tell Sawamura, wherever he is, that the team’s running laps around the school. No one gets dinner until they’ve done five laps.”

“Yes, coach,” Shimizu nodded and darted off.

Keishin looked around at the gymnasium. Shinzen was currently going head-to-head with Ubugawa on court one and Nekoma was taking their flying falls after a whopping 25:15, 25:11 defeat to Fukurodani.

“Punishing the troops, huh?” Nekomata said. Keishin turned.

“Heh, where have you been hiding, old man? I’ve been babysitting your kids for you.”

Nekomata smiled, “So I hear. Torturing them, it sounds like.”

Keishin shrugged, “Is it torture if it’s done in fair exchange of information?”

Nekomata nodded, “Good point.”

“Ah, Ukai-kun!” Takeda came jogging up to them, his glasses askew.

“Takeda-sensei,” Nekomata laughed, “you look like you ran here from Kyoto.”

“Ah, yes,” Takeda laughed and righted his spectacles. “I’m glad you’re both here. I was able to book a table at the restaurant coach Sasagawa recommended.”

“Oh, great news!” Nekomata clapped his hands together.

Keishin blinked, “Restaurant?” His life flashed before his eyes as he imagined trying to corral five boys’ volleyball teams into a cramped public space without incurring multiple felonies. “What?”

“I thought it would be good for the coaches to take a time-out this evening,” Nekomata said. “How does a few drinks in good company sound?”

“Oh!” Keishin lit up at the thought of beer. He’d been sneaking off to smoke every few hours and felt like an actual criminal for doing so. There were only so many nooks and crannies he could hide in before any students found him. Time in a bar filled with other adults sounded like a dream right then.

“But who’s going to watch over the monsters?” Keishin asked. He pointed to the Nekoma boys throwing themselves across the floor and the Fukurodani boys yelling and performing some sort of insult to Shakespeare on the other side of the court.

“Hm, well, we will not let the monsters know the adults are going out, will we?”

“So…” Keishin glanced at Takeda, “We’re just going to…leave them all here? Unsupervised?”

Nekomata shrugged, “There’s not much they can get up to.”

The same terrible fear seemed to pass across Takeda’s face as Keishin’s. “Sorry, have you _met_ our team? It’s fifty-percent delinquents,” Keishin hissed. “We leave them alone and the school will be burned to the ground.”

Nekomata chuckled, “You two worry too much. Have some faith in the youth, won’t you?” He patted them both on the back and strolled off, clearly unconcerned with the bomb he just dropped on them. “We’ll catch up later, coaches. See you at dinner!”

Keishin looked at Takeda. They both swallowed. “Well,” he said slowly, “beer?”

“I suppose…” Takeda sighed. “I could just cancel the restaurant booking? Pretend the restaurant made a mistake?”

Keishin pondered the options available to them. On one hand, they could go about another night of quiet solitude or they could sit in a public restaurant and eat good food, drink amazing alcohol and talk shit about the idiots under their care with no worries about being overheard. Keishin grabbed Takeda by the shoulders. “No. We’re going out. We need the time. If the school burns, it burns and we go to prison. So be it.”

Takeda laughed, “All right. If you say so, Ukai-kun.”

* * *

Takeda was drunk.

It was _hilarious._

“No, that’s not fair!” Takeda wailed.

“It is!” Naoi laughed uproariously.

“I didn’t–I wouldn’t have if–“ Takeda blubbed, eyes all red and wet.

“You are very persistent, sensei,” Nekomata chuckled, swigging his sake with ease.

They’d all managed to sneak out of Shinzen without any student spotting them. Keishin had felt like a teenager again, skiving off behind his parents’ back. Takeda had been totally onboard with their idea of waiting until all the kids were in bed then doing ‘nightly check-ins’ in case any students questioned why they were wandering the halls. Luckily they got out scot-free.

“I wasn’t trying to be rude,” Takeda muttered, listing a little to the left. Arakawa gently pushed him back towards Keishin, who was enjoying the show. “I was merely calling back to make sure you got my messages.”

“Oh, all sixteen of them?” Nekomata laughed, “Yes, sensei, I got them.”

Takeda covered his face with his hands. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Nah, sensei,” Keishin exhaled a puff of smoke and stubbed out his cigarette. He pressed his shoulder into Takeda. “Don’t mind these guys. They’re poking fun at an easy target.” He eyed Naoi, “Pick on someone your own size.”

“Oho,” Naoi raised his beer to Keishin, “don’t tempt me, Ukai.”

“No, I get it,” Takeda dropped his hands. “I’m too pushy,” he turned to Keishin, “but it gets things done.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Keishin smirked and sipped at his beer, “got us here, didn’t you?”

“That’s true,” Nekomata laughed and slapped the table. He was as rosy-cheeked as Takeda, but seemed to be holding his liquor better. “More beer?”

“No, no,” Keishin held up his hands. “I’m at capacity. I don’t want to have a hangover tomorrow.”

“Not in front of the students,” Takeda tacked on. He wavered in his seat.

Keishin pushed his glass of water over. “Drink,” he murmured. “I can’t carry you back, sensei.”

“I can,” Naoi said. “If need be.”

Keishin knew it wasn’t a threat of any kind but he couldn’t help the unfurling in his chest at the thought of anyone laying even one finger on Takeda.

“I’ll be fine,” Takeda said, glugging back water. “I’ll be fine, Ukai-kun. I will.”

“I trust you, sensei,” Keishin said.

* * *

“You’re so _heavy,_ ” Keishin gasped. He slid the classroom door open with his foot. He didn’t bother with the lights, just dragged Takeda over to his bed roll.

“Ukai-kun…” Takeda slurred into Keishin’s shoulder.

“How do you weigh so much but look so little?” Keishin rested Takeda against a desk, butt propped on the tabletop. After making sure the other man wouldn’t tumble over sideways, he went back to close the door, checking down the hallway first. Thankfully, no one was about. Takeda would probably combust at the thought of any student seeing him so inebriated.

“I drank so much water, though,” Takeda muttered, “why can’t I walk?”

Keishin slipped his shoes off and came to do the same for Takeda. He untied the teacher’s laces and pulled his sneakers off.

“Come on, bedtime,” Keishin muttered and helped lower Takeda to the floor.

Takeda sighed. He rubbed at his face and pushed his glasses until they fell into his lap. “I’m so stupid, Ukai-kun.”

“Eh?” Keishin paused.

Takeda exhaled, shoulders slumping. “The other coaches were right. I’m not like you all. I don’t have the abilities to help Karasuno. I just take notes and make phone calls and annoy people.”

Keishin smirked. So Takeda was emotionally fragile when he drank. It was a nice change from his own group of friends who just became larger, louder asshole versions of themselves. Keishin included.

“You are the reason we’re even here, sensei,” Keishin reminded him. He crouched beside him. “Takeda-san, trust me, you’re perfect just the way you are.”

“I don’t believe you,” Takeda flopped onto his back. Keishin considered whether or not he should get the sensei into his pyjamas, then decided against all options. He’d leave that whole concept to his imagination where he was free to indulge in the fantasy without any repercussions.

“Ukai-kun,” Takeda said.

“Hm?” Keishin looked down at him.

“I’m useless,” Takeda murmured through pouted lips.

Keishin burst out laughing.

“I am!” Takeda sat up, “You agree!”

Keishin snorted behind his palm. Takeda pushed at him and he fell back onto his ass.

“You think I’m useless too!” Takeda hissed, “Why even let me onto the team at all!”

“Sensei,” Keishin giggled.

“I’m leaving. I’ll leave. The team would be better off without me.”

“ _Takeda_ ,” Keishin laughed and grabbed the man’s wrists. He swallowed down his chuckles. “I’m not laughing at you.” He grinned, amused by the consternation on Takeda’s face. “You’re just drunk and it’s making you silly. We need you. The whole team does. _I_ wouldn’t even be here, remember? Not if you hadn’t come to get me, anyway.”

“But I was pushy and annoying,” Takeda said, full of woe.

Keishin smiled softer. _He really is this cute, huh,_ he thought.

“You’re _effective,”_ Keishin said, releasing Takeda’s wrists, “very effective, sensei. You worked on me. Your tactics, I mean, they worked on me.” _Nice save, Keishin._

Takeda stared at him with his big brown eyes. His cheeks were still flushed from the alcohol but he definitely looked less bleary.

“I’m acting the fool, aren’t I?”

Keishin laughed softly, then leaned forward to press his thumb to the dimple in Takeda’s chin. “You’re drunk, that’s all.”

“Drunk,” Takeda said, “yes.”

Keishin stared at Takeda’s mouth. He licked his own lips. “You should get to bed, sensei. Tomorrow is going to be hard enough already.”

Takeda opened his mouth, then closed it.

Keishin got to his feet. “Get into your pyjamas. I’m going to scrounge up some water, okay?”

“‘Kay,” Takeda mumbled.

Keishin found a vending machine after realizing he didn’t have any cups in which to transport water back to their room. After figuring how to use the machine in the dim light, he managed to pop out two cold water bottles.

He turned back down the main hallway. “Eep!” he swallowed his shriek when he rounded a corner and came face-to-face with a dark figure in the shadows. _Sadako?_ His brain screamed inside his skull.

“Coach Ukai,” a soft voice said, coming closer. “It’s just you.”

“Shimizu-san?” Keishin gasped, clutching the bottles to his chest like they were prized possessions.

“Wh-Shimizu-san!” Keishin gasped out. “What are you _doing?_ ”

“We heard noises,” she said simply.

Keishin glanced down at the object in her hands, his eyes bugging out. “Where did you find a _baseball bat?”_

She looked down, then shrugged, “There’s a locker for the girls baseball team in the communal showers.”

“W-were you going to beat me to death?”

She sighed, “I was worried it was a serial killer. Well, Yachi-chan was. I came to investigate.” _Was she unhinged?_

Keishin exhaled, “Please, for the love of god, just go back to bed. I’m going back to mine, and then I’m going to probably die from fright.” He stood up taller and tried to collect himself. “What if it had been Takeda-sensei? Or Hinata? You could have frightened them to death.”

“Sorry,” she murmured.

He walked her back to their rooms. A couple faces peeked out of the girls’ room. They popped back inside when Keishin spotted them. _What are they? Meerkats?_

Keishin rubbed at his face with a water bottle. “Bed. Go. Sleep.”

Shimizu nodded, then paused, “You all had fun, I assume?”

Keishin opened one eye, “Eh?”

“You and the coaches went drinking?” she said, plain as day.

“What?” Keishin blurted, “How did you know? Oh my _god_ , do the rest of them know?” He would need to go check on the boys, wouldn’t he? He was going to find carnage, wasn’t he? This would be his punishment for wanting an evening of lighthearted fun.

Shimizu smiled, “No. Only the managers were aware. Takeda-sensei mentioned it before you left. He asked us to keep the teams occupied.”

Keishin blinked, “What…did you do…?” he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the girls had to do to keep a horde of boys busy–

“We read them bedtime stories. Two managers to each team. It was fun,” Shimizu smiled.

Keishin’s jaw dropped, “And that _worked?”_

“Mhm,” she nodded, “boys are simple creatures, coach.”

“Are they _ever!_ ” Keishin laughed, then covered his mouth. He pulled himself together. “Well, thanks. I guess.”

“You’re welcome,” she bowed, “I hope you enjoyed your night out, coach. You both deserved it.” She turned and went back to the managers’ room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Keishin went back to his and Takeda’s quarters, sliding the door shut. He paused, then turned to Takeda.

“Water?” Takeda asked in the darkness, like he was some dehydrated lamb left to wither in the desert.

Keishin huffed out a laugh, then went over and dropped to his knees. He placed the bottles of water down on the ground, then took Takeda’s face in his. “You,” he said with layers of reverence steeped into his voice, “are an absolute genius!”

And, without using his common sense; without thinking this through, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Takeda’s, kissing him like he'd been thinking of doing for weeks. The Keishin of tomorrow could worry about the consequences.


	5. 5

Keishin sat down at the long breakfast table in the cafeteria.

The Karasuno team all stared back.

“What?” he said gruffly, taking a bite of toast.

“Uh,” Asahi wavered, looking between Keishin and Ennoshita.

“Oh, coach!” Sugawara approached with his own plate of food. He grinned. “You’re sitting with us today?” Sawamura was right behind him.

“Uh huh,” Keishin said, mouth full. Why were they all so chatty at this hour?

“Oooh,” Hinata said, leaning around Yamaguchi to stare at Keishin like he was some exotic fish that had flopped onto their table. “You tired of the senseis and their gossip, coach?”

Keishin inhaled and exhaled slowly. “I just decided to change it up.”

The team did not need to know the reason for this change. They didn’t need to know that he’d woken up with a start, right before sunrise, the memory of what he’d done last night screaming into the fore of his mind. He’d avoided the coaches’ table to give himself some time to reflect and perhaps repent.

“Tch,” he muttered under his breath. He stabbed at his omelette. _Fuck_. He’d _kissed_ Takeda. He’d kissed a very drunk Takeda and then sheepishly put the man to bed like it was nothing at all. Like it had been some weird glitch in the matrix. He wasn’t handling his choices well.

Sneaking out before Takeda woke up was another level of low he hadn’t anticipated climbing down into. He just didn’t know what to say or do about… it. He needed to formulate a plan, figure out an excuse, explain _why the fuck_ he’d kissed his team’s sensei; his _colleague;_ his friend?

“Stop stealing my bacon!” Kageyama barked, jolting Keishin from his thoughts. Good to know his squad of morons were consistently irritating at all times of the day.

“Sorry, sheesh!” Hinata said. Keishin looked up. The whole team was up and awake and eating their body weight in breakfast. He twisted on the bench seat. The Nekoma team was nowhere to be seen.

“I thought you were all bunking with Nekoma?” he asked Sawamura, who’d taken the spot opposite him.

“Ah, they aren’t early risers,” Sawamura smiled sheepishly.

“It’s not like we are either,” Tanaka grumbled from the other side of Ennoshita.

“You dragging these guys up at the crack of dawn, Sawamura?” Keishin asked, grinning.

“Ah,” Sawamura hesitated.

“Oh, you think _he’s_ the slave-driver?” Tanaka said. “Wrong again, coach.”

“If you’re implying that _I_ , in some way, have demanded things of you that you do not _want_ ,” Sugawara said sharply, “then please feel free to stay behind next time.”

“I…don’t want to die,” Tanaka murmured bitterly.

“Early birds get the worms,” Sugawara said loudly. He clicked his chopsticks threateningly.

“Don’t _want_ worms,” Nishinoya said mulishly.

“You don’t deserve worms,” Sugawara sniffed.

“Ah, Suga,” Sawamura nudged the vice-captain good-naturedly. “We all love that you wake us up early. We get more time to the day.”

“Suck-up,” someone hissed.

Sugawara glared down the table.

Keishin smirked. _These guys._ He’d grown quite fond of them in the last few weeks since they’d met.

“So what’s the plan today, coach?” Sawamura said, changing the subject.

“Hmm,” Keishin sipped his water. He wasn’t sure what to say. He was this team’s coach, after all; he should have some idea of how to plan ahead. Instead, he’d been freaking out for not knowing what the hell he was going to do once he had to actually face Takeda. He’d considered fleeing as option number one, but it didn’t seem very mature. All other options were even less admirable. Why was _he_ entrusted to the care of these kids when he couldn’t even keep his own life on the straight and narrow? It was ridiculous!

“I want to actually win a match,” he said instead, knowing it would hit a nerve.

The whole team groaned. “We’re trying!” they wailed.

“I know,” he murmured. He looked at his team, “well,what do _you_ all want to work on?”

The team glanced at one another. Hinata had a mouth full of egg but he tried to make his opinion known anyway.

“Gross,” Tsukishima muttered, leaning away from the redhead and his spewing food bits.

“I want to be as good as Yaku-san! I want to fight him head-to-head,” Nishinoya said loudly.

“Eh?” Keishin frowned.

“Nekoma’s libero,” Sugawara said. “Nishinoya has decided he is the best he’s ever seen and so he must somehow become better than him.”

“Right,” Keishin pondered that. “Yeah, he is good.” _Hm._ “Maybe today we work on receives some more.”

“Fukurodani again?” Sawamura said.

“Yeah,” Keishin muttered and finished off his breakfast. He swigged back his water, thankful yet again for his high tolerance to alcohol and the way his body had given upever trying to make him feel bad the morning after.

They all looked up as a bundle of boys barrelled into the cafeteria. Takeda appeared not far behind, chatting to Naoi. Keishin ducked his head and tried not to look too conspicuous. He could do this.

* * *

Keishin watched his team complain as they ran up the grassy hill behind the main school building.

“Come on, Tsukishima!” he said loudly. “Move those legs; you too Yamaguchi.”

He put his hands on his hips and exhaled slowly. Another loss against Fukurodani; he wondered idly what it would feel like if they actually _did_ win?

“Ukai-kun?”

Keishin jumped. “Oh, Takeda-san.”

Takeda smiled up at him. Keishin had successfully avoided getting into any deep conversations with the man the entire day. He wasn’t sure if he should be proud of himself or not.

It was surprisingly easy. Either Takeda hadn’t remembered what Keishin had done, or he was willing to overlook it for the sanity of their team and working relationship. Keishin wasn’t sure which one he’d prefer. If Takeda didn’t remember, then Keishin was kind of off the hook and they’d never have to address his bad behaviour. If takeda _did_ remember though, he was probably covering forcing himself to be civil now.

“Nekomata-sensei would like to make an announcement for the teams in about ten minutes.”

Keishin blinked, “Oh? What about?”

“I don’t know,” Takeda said with a chuckle. “He didn’t want to elaborate, but he seemed quite pleased with himself.”

“Oh, that man,” Keishin sighed, “he must have hatched some evil plot.”

Takeda watched the team come scattering back down the hill, some of them wavering in the heat, some of them giving up and flopping onto the grass.

“Yamaguchi!” Keishin barked. “Up!”

They watched their first-year server grumble and flail on the grass before Tsukishima went over and helped him to his feet. They both looked exhausted.

“I don’t think they’re sleeping very well,” Takeda murmured.

“Oh?” Keishin didn’t look at the other man. “Nekoma keeping them up?”

“Not sure,” Takeda sighed. “But something’s up.”

* * *

“Wait, _what?”_ Keishin hissed, looking at Naoi for confirmation.

“Eh?” Naoi looked just as surprised as Keishin.

“That’s right!” Nekomata laughed. He was standing in front of the seated volleyball teams all crammed onto the volleyball court. “We will host a special evening game where you get to nominate your best players. And those players will play against the coaches.”

The rabble of kids all yipped and howled and stomped their feet.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” Naoi muttered under his breath. Keishin wondered how _he_ was faring after their night out. Yamiji looked okay, and Takeda wasn’t looking green at all.

“Ah, jeez,” Keishin rubbed at his eyes. “Is the old man for real? Making us play against these feral children?”

“May death take me now,” Sasagawa sighed, looking the worst off of all of them.

“Are you going to play, Nekomata-sensei?” one kid called out. Everyone _ooh_ ed and _aah_ ed.

“Oh no,” Nekomata chuckled, “My bones are too brittle. I will have to referee this one. You wouldn’t want me in the hospital, now would you?”

“I might just,” Keishin said under his breath.

“Lying old fart,” Arakawa exhaled through his nose.

“So,” Nekomata said over the yelping teams, “all five student teams: nominate two players whom you think will do well against the coaches. And then you’ll have the next three hours to practise together, okay?” He pointed his finger around the room, “Choose wisely.”

The crowd only got louder.

Nekomata held up his hands, “If the student team wins, ice-cream popsicles for dessert!”

The crowd clapped loudly and whistled like banshees.

“If the coaches win,” Nekomata paused for effect, “everyone has to do ten laps around the school before bedtime.”

The crowd booed loudly, some of them smacking the wooden floor with their palms.

“Oh my god, we’re going to be murdered,” Naoi said, exasperation tingeing his words.

Keishin turned to Takeda, “Is he serious right now?”

Takeda looked just as surprised as him, “Sounds…interesting?” he murmured. “I’m sure you can all do this, no?”

“Oh _God_ ,” Keishin pressed his palms over his face, muffling his words. “I have to play with Naoi.”

“You think I’m happy about this, you dick?” Naoi muttered so the kids couldn’t hear.

“Oh, Takeda-sensei,” Nekomata approached, beaming with the glee of a man who had just handed them all a death wish.

“Yes, sensei?” Takeda stood taller. “Do you need me to help you ref?”

Nekomata smiled, “Well, no. Since there are very few coaches here today, you are all at a bit of a disadvantage.”

“Ah, okay?” Takeda frowned.

“So, I’m looking forward to seeing you play!” Nekomata patted Takeda’s arm as he walked by.

Takeda paled, struck dumb, it seemed. He slowly turned and stared up at Keishin.

“ _What?_ ” he wailed loudly, scattering his notebooks and pens all over the floor.

* * *

“I regret ever signing up as advisor to the volleyball team,” Takeda said. “Worst decision I’ve ever made.”

Keishin tied his hair back as best he could, then surveyed the gymnasium. All five volleyball teams were seated around court number 2. They were clapping and braying and chanting horrible cheers, like the monsters they were.

He tugged his t-shirt out from where it got tucked into his shorts. He flapped the material, trying to cool himself off.

“I should have gone to medical school, like my parents wanted,” Takeda was saying feverishly, all but vibrating out of his skin. “The fates are testing me today. And I will _embarrass_ them.”

They’d just gotten through the first set and the student team on the other side of the net was high-fiving themselves for taking the set.

“Ahhh,” Keishin whined to the sky. “Those kids are so annoying.” He glared at the arrangement of boys that had made impromptu cheering uniforms out of shredded paper and masking tape. They were clapping and yelling the words to some pretty bad, off-colour cheers.

“You okay there, setter?” Naoi piped up. He grinned. All of the coaches were sweaty and getting no love from the crowd. Keishin sincerely hoped this wasn’t going to turn into some cannibalistic sacrifice by the end of the day. Or maybe that would be a good thing and he’d finally get some rest in the afterlife.

“I’m fine,” Keishin said. He glanced down at Takeda, who was sitting on the bench, shaking with nerves. “Sensei?”

“Huh?” Takeda blinked up at him. He was wearing shorts with his white tee and a headband someone must have given him, because _when_ did Takeda ever wear headbands that made him look like some cute dork straight out of the eighties? “Me? Oh, I’m fine!”

Keishin patted his shoulder, “Don’t worry, we’re not going to sub you in.”

“Aren’t we?” Naoi laughed, still in good spirits, even after such a harrowing first set. Damn, Keishin hated the kids they were playing against. He scratched at his chin and eyed their opponents. The students had voted on their players and he wasn’t surprised at all to find the opposing team loaded with captains and aces.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto was hopping from foot-to-foot, “Did you see my spike? The final one? Wasn’t it _great?_ ”

Fukurodani’s setter, the one with the apathetic expression, nodded and handed Bokuto a water bottle.

“Don’t die on me, Ukai,” Sasagawa said, clapping Keishin on the shoulder. “We need you.”

“You know we have to beat these punks, right?” Keishin said, turning to the small team of coaches, “not just humour them? I’m not giving this away just because they’re children.”

Most of the coaches played volleyball regularly, thank god, so they weren't _too_ bad. Aside from Takeda, their seventh member, they weren’t a bad bunch, even if they’d never really done this before.

“We only had one hour to figure ourselves out, whereas they had three, so of course they won first set,” Keishin griped. “But we’ve got them. We’ll nail them.”

“We can’t let the kids beat us,” Yamiji said, wiping at his brow. “We can’t.”

“We’ll never hear the end of it,” Arakawa said wryly.

“Tell me about it,” Keishin sighed. He looked around the gym. At least everyone was having fun. He saw the Karasuno team all bundled up in and amongst Nekoma, like they were all best buds. Kageyama looked very unhappy to not have been selected to play, but then again, Fukurodani’s setter was just that little bit more reliable when it came to the aces on the student team.

“They’re huge,” Takeda murmured, watching the opposing team.

Nekomata blew the whistle. The second set was beginning. Keishin locked eyes with Nekomata and gave him a dirty look. The old man just grinned.

Keishin was up to serve. He waited for the whistle, breathed in, and jumped.

The Nekoma libero was already waiting.

“Damn it,” Keishin muttered, watching the students fly into action _just like they’d been trained_. They weren’t bad for a motley crew of mismatched teenagers. It was _infuriating._

The crowd was going wild. It must be fun for them to watch their coaches play for once. Keishin wondered how bad they looked in comparison. It must be a hot mess from the sidelines.

They rearranged for the next serve. This time Keishin was ready to move up front and get into the setter position.

He watched Kuroo move the minute the ball went up and over the net, while Akaashi from Fukurodani locked eyes with the left wing spiker.

Not bad. A distraction.

“From the back!” he barked, eyes immediately going to Sawamura who was moving a little too quickly. “Pipe!”

Keishin got in line with Naoi and Arakawa and they _jumped._

The ball smacked Keishin’s fingers and slipped back over the net and between them and the teenage blockers.

“Tch,” Kuroo hissed. He eyed Keishin with a sour smile, “lucky.”

Keishin grinned right back. “You forgot something.”

“Ah?” Kuroo frowned.

“Who do you think taught all these punks to play?” Keishin cackled and thumbed at Tsukishima.

Naoi laughed beside him.

Kuroo glanced at Tsukishima, who didn’t seemed fazed in the slightest.

Over the next few plays, Keishin proved his point admirably. Though the coaches were older and maybe not quite as eager to destroy their bodies for a play, they were years ahead in experience.

“Oh, they’re swapping out for Sugawara,” Takeda yelled from the sideline.

Keishin was fascinated to see how the kids’ team was organizing themselves without a coach. He wondered what their strategy was when swapping players in and out.

“What’s that mean?” Arakawa said, looking at Keishin.

“Ah, Sugawara’s our third-year setter,” Keishin muttered, “he sets up plays in advance, hand signals etcetera, he’s very subtle.”

And just like Keishin predicted, Sugawara was talking to the blockers before getting into position. He always seemed so calm and cheerful, but Keishin knew Sugawara used his chit-chat to pass on signals. He was a secret agent player.

“Hi, coach,” Sugawara said with a grin and a wave.

“Hm,” Keishin narrowed his eyes at Sugawara’s friendly smile. “Don’t fall for that face,” he added to his own team.

Sugawara grinned.

After the serve and a mad rally, the point went to the students, all of whom jeered and clapped and slapped sugawara for whatever he’d managed to do.

“Damnit,” Naoi muttered. He eyed Keishin, “your setters are wily, huh?”

“And your blockers are a pain in my ass.”

“One of those is yours,” Naoi cocked a brow at him.

Which, okay, fair. Tsukishima was getting an earful from both Bokuto and Kuroo, who were on either side of him, blabbing nonsense right into his ears. He looked very tired with it all. Keishin wondered if Tsukishima even _wanted_ to be playing right now.

“Ukai-kun!”

Keishin turned. Takeda waved him over while calling for a time-out.

“They’re swapping setters again,” Takeda said. Naoi, Sasagawa, Arakawa and Yamiji followed Keishin to Takeda’s bench.

“Yeah?” Keishin asked, reaching up to tighten his hairband.

“That’ll put Akaashi, Sawamura and Tsukishima in the front.”

“Okay?” Naoi said. He picked up a towel and dried his face.

“So their frontline defence will be at its weakest,” Takeda said, eyes sharp, focused.

“Ah, but that blondie, he’s tall, man,” Arakawa sighed.

“Hm,” Keishin rubbed at his lips, considering. “Tsukishima’s not that great without the others though, even if he _is_ miraculously getting better.” He poked Yamiji in the shoulder, “Akaashi, he’s yours,how’s his blocking go? What we gotta do to break it?”

“He’s good,” Yamiji shrugged. “He’s not Bokuto, but still.”

“He always ready to dump?” Keishin asked.

Yamiji laughed, “Are you seriously using this as an opportunity to glean more information on my players, Ukai?”

“No,” Ukai said, deadpan, “I’m trying to get us to win so we don’t have to deal with a million bastard children making fun of us forever.”

“Ah,” Yamiji exhaled as if in pain, “yeah, yeah. Okay, fine. Here’s where Akaashi falls short…”

Keishin tried his utmost not to make it obvious, but he locked eyes with Takedawho was brimming with excited, held-backtension. He gave Keishin a tiny thumbs-up. _Heh. Teamwork._

* * *

“Ahh!” Keishin collapsed onto the floor, chest heaving as the whistle blew for the final point.

“Yes!” Naoi bellowed like a friggin’ gorilla. The crowd was going wild. _What a set._

After defeating the kids in the second set, Keishin had known it was only going to get harder going into the third.

But they _just_ managed to eke in the 25th point ahead of a deuce. Thank _God._ He wouldn’t have been able to go on much longer.

“I’m too old for this,” he gasped for breath. That last set was too hurried for his liking, Yamiji a little too slow; but they’d managed it.

“We did it, you bastard!” Naoi laughed.

Keishin could feel the stomping of feet reverberating through the floor at his back.

“Ukai-kun, let me help you up.”

And when Keishin opened his eyes, it was to see Takeda grinning down at him, lit from above by the gymnasium lights. He looked positively angelic.

“Ah, thanks,” Keishin took the proffered hand and got to his (slightly shaky) feet.

“Nicely done, men,” Arakawa shook hands with them all. They turned to grin at the kids on the other side of the net.

Kuroo was sweating, his hair all in his eyes. He looked very annoyed.

“That was pretty good!” Bokuto leaned on the net like an orangutan, swinging his weight forward so he was balanced on the tips of his pristine volleyball sneakers. “Coaches were pretty goooood!”

He didn’t look disappointed at all.

Sawamura came over to shake hands, like the real captain he was.

Hell, Keishin just realized they hadn’t even assigned anyone on his own team as captain, probably because it didn’t matter.

“Good job, coach,” Sawamura grinned, “didn’t know you had it in you.”

“You guys played well together,” Keishin grinned back. “And I’m about two seconds away from a heart attack, so nicely done.”

Sawamura laughed, “We managed. It wasn’t easy.”

“Eh, what do you mean, Dai-san?” Kuroo leaned into Sawamura’s space. “Were we not a seamless, perfect squad of perfection?”

“Ah,” Sawamura paused, probably thinking of the handful of mess-ups that had occurred when one or more of them had lunged for the ball. It had happened a little too often and that wasn’t all. What with Bokuto trying to outshine god himself, and Yaku screaming his guts out at anyone making a single misstep, and Tsukishima pointedly ignoring what his senpais were telling him to do out of insolence, Keishin guessed it could have been a lot worse. “We were decent,” Sawamura finished amiably.

“Mr. Diplomatic,” Kuroo huffed out.

“Hey,” Keishin rested a hand on his hip, trying to alleviate the tension in his thigh. “How did you guys pick the team? Was it based on balanced strengths? Equal team standing?”

“Uh, we played Roshambo?” Sawamura laughed.

“ _We_ wrestled for it,” Kuroo grinned. That explained a lot.

“And the others?” Keishin laughed.

Kuroo yanked Bokuto close, “Oi, how’d you idiots pick your members for this team?”

“Eh?” Bokuto twisted around, Kuroo’s hand still caught up in the back of his vest. “What do you mean?”

“How did you pick players?” Kuroo said slower this time, shaking Bokuto slowly. “Roshambo? Straws?”

Bokuto scratched his shin, “We picked me and Akaashi because we’re the best players in Fukurodani? Who else could do it?”

Keishin couldn’t help laughing. “Well, that’s honest,” he cackled.

“Really?” Sawamura looked stunned. He would never have done anything of the sort.

“Well,” Akaashi piped up. He handed Bokuto a towel, “actually, we knew it had to be Bokuto because he, well, you know. And then I was voluntold to assist keep him in line.”

“Nice job on that, by the way,” Kuroo sighed. “Thanks for stopping him from kicking me in the face.”

Akaashi seemed unbothered.

“You all played very well,” Takeda said. “Up against the coaches? I’m very impressed.”

“Ah, chibi-coach is always too nice to us,” Kuroo said.

“Oi,” Keishin said. “It’s Takeda-san to you.”

Kuroo shrugged, “Close enough.”

* * *

Keishin showered and was heading back to the cafeteria for what had turned out to be ice-cream popsicles for everyone _anyway_ , because Nekomata was a damn pushover when it came to the kids.

He scrolled through his phone as he walked. One more day in Tokyo; time really did fly when you were stuck in an eternal vortex of terror and existential crises.

He was tired and his back was clicking again, which meant he’d pushed himself too hard during that match. He made a mental note to stretch before bed else he’d wake up looking like some twisted eel.

A squeaking sound had him look up. It was dark, the sun having just set, and most of the kids should be either in the cafeteria, or on their way there.

He crossed the courtyard, over to the gymnasium doorway.

“Who the hell is still practising?” he muttered under his breath.

He stood at the open door.

Keishin squinted. _Was that Tsukishima?_ _Surely not._

But…it really was. And he was training with… Nekoma and Fukurodani?

The Nekoma blocker, Lev, was on the floor wailing, “I’m tired, Kuroo-senpai! I want my ice-cream!”

“Not until you stop misusing those meat-slab hands of yours!” Kuroo barked, “Tsukki’s gotten it, why can’t you?”

“That’s mean,” Lev cried, sitting up. “Tsukki’s not even from Nekoma. You can’t play favourites with him.”

“Tsukki’s great!” Bokuto cried, jumping around like a starfish fired from a slingshot.

Keishin blinked. Were they all just…practising together? Had Tsukishima actually _signed up_ for this? _Was the world ending?_

He stayed a moment longer and watched Kuroo argue with Tsukishima over read blocking protocol while Lev whined and tried to crawl away. Then, he shook his head and receded back into the shadows. Who would ever have thought?

* * *

Takeda found him later on the grassy hill, smoking in peace.

“There you are,” Takeda said breathlessly as he reached the summit, “I wondered where you could be hiding.”

“Can’t get away from the monsters,” Keishin said around his cigarette. The breeze was nice out here at this time of night. “They can always find you. Never free.”

“They’re still pretty rowdy,” Takeda chuckled. “I’m hoping full bellies, ice-cream, and an afternoon of screaming insults at their coaches will be enough to tire them out.”

“You hope for a lot,” Keishin snorted.

Now that Takeda was standing beside him, looking out over the school property, Keishin remembered why he’d been trying to not seek him out during the day.

Takeda hadn’t said a thing about the kiss.

Keishin had wavered on what his own position was regarding the incident. He _should_ apologize. He should clear the air, make it apparent that he’d been in the wrong, that he’d overstepped, that his behaviour was terribly out of line.

But then Takeda hadn’t seemed any different at all. Like… well, like he didn’t _know_ it had happened.

Keishin wasn’t sure what to make of that. Either Takeda had been too drunk to remember Keishin taking liberties with his lips, or he was letting it slide, letting Keishin hide his shame and not have to bring it out into the light to be dissected and appraised.

Keishin wasn’t certain which option was actually in effect, and he really didn’t want to ask. He knew it was cowardly, but fucking up whatever working relationship they had wasn’t worth it. If Takeda had no memory of the kiss, and if he did and didn’t want to embarrass Keishin by pulling away, then Keishin could just hold onto his little stupid crush in secret. No one needed to know, did they?

He watched Takeda now, looked at his profile as the other man stared out at the deep blue night sky. His hair was moving, curling and bobbing a little in the breeze.

“I’m so glad I didn’t have to play in that match!” Takeda said loudly, abruptly, hands going over his glasses. “Oh, God, I’ve been so stressed thinking about it!”

Keishin blinked in surprise. He coughed, then laughed.

“I would have made a fool of myself, and of the rest of you,” Takeda went on. “Oh thank _God_ none of you broke an ankle or anything. Else I would have evaporated on the spot!”

Keishin snorted, “Sensei, I told you we weren’t going to make you play. You think we’d have been that cruel?” Though it would have been very funny to witness, Keishin couldn’t fathom putting the poor guy through such torture.

Takeda turned to look at him, “But I would have, if asked–and _that’s_ the real problem, Ukai-kun! I’m terrible at volleyball. I would have been a shame to us all.”

“Probably,” Keishin snickered and sucked on his cigarette, “but that’s okay. Nekomata was fucking with you.”

“Yes, I think so too,” Takeda sighed. He made a face, like something had just crossed his mind. “Do you think he made up the match so the teams would all have to stand together, to get behind the same goal?”

“Hmm,” Keishin considered that. “I guess? It worked, didn’t it?”

Takeda laughed, “Yes, I think it did.”

“Now every teenager within a ten kilometre radius hates us. It’s unifying for them.”

Takeda chuckled. He pushed his hands into his track jacket pockets. “You play very well, Ukai-kun.”

“Ah,” Keishin dropped his smoke and smushed it with his sneaker. “Thanks.”

“You’re an excellent setter.”

“Hm,” Keishin scratched at his chin, “I’m fine. I wasn’t much better in High School. Average.”

“But you read the other coaches so well?” Takeda murmured. “And you’d never even played with them before?”

Keishin shrugged and grinned, “Well, I didn’t really have much of a choice did I? Either we work together and win, or we become hotdogs for children.”

Takeda laughed. He had such a great laugh, so full of energy.

Keishin might have asked about the kiss then, he even wanted to, just to see what would happen. But seeing Takeda so happy, so unruffled, it seemed cruel to burst his bubble with Keishin’s ego-centric concerns.

If Takeda was good with everything the way it was, then Keishin could be too, his own stupid crush be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come.
> 
> Thank you for reading with me! Apologies for any spelling and grammar errors. X__x
> 
> And thank you for the comments and kudos. All are very much appreciated.


	6. 6

It was their last night in Tokyo and Keishin was feeling jumpy. He couldn’t relax, couldn’t settle down just yet. So he was taking the last duty of the day: checking on the brats before lights out.

Ubugawa and Shinzen were sharing a room and they seemed pretty quiet, most of the boys curled up in their bed rolls, dozing or reading. What a civilized bunch they were.

The barbecue had really worn everyone out, thank god. It was a clever tactic to feed the kids up and pile them into bed with full bellies. Keishin was taking notes.

He went to check on Fukurodani and found them in their own classroom, a stipulation put forth by the Fukurodani managers. Apparently a lot of them snored? Keishin wasn’t certain on the specifics. He could see why they were in their own room when he leaned in to call lights out. Bokuto was doing some kind of headstand, legs crossed, while the rest of the team counted down to something. Empty bags of chips and snacks littered the floor around him like some strange shrine to the foolhardy. Most of them were rowdy and still bouncing off the walls, and the few sane ones were wearing oversized noise-cancelling headphones, so it all seemed to balance out. As long as these kids knew how to manage their own experiences it shouldn’t fuck them up too much.

Lastly, he made his way to the classroom occupied by Karasuno and Nekoma. He hadn’t checked on his own team the entire time they’d been here. He’d routinely left that up to Takeda, choosing instead to go have another smoke outdoors before bed.

He slid the classroom door open with a snap. The murmuring of voices came to a halt as he stood there in the doorway, a pair of wet sneakers in one hand.

“Oi,” he said, looking around the room, “where’s Hinata?”

Many faces looked up at him from spots all around the room. Most of the kids were reclined, lazing about after a long day of training and eating and acting the fool.

The boys had laid out their bed rolls in an evenly spaced grid, the two teams having divided the room in half ever so neatly. There was one exception, it seemed, and that–of course–was Hinata. The redhead’s bed roll was laid out at a jaunty angle, his pillow sitting perpendicular to one of the Nekoma bed rolls; Probably for late night whispering and gossiping.

Keishin felt all the Nekoma eyes on him as he navigated around them to get to Hinata.

“Your shoes, I take it?” Keishin said, carefully walking between the many kids sprawled on the floor like limp squids.

“My shoes!” Hinata wailed and threw up his arms. “I was looking for them! Coach, you’re my hero.”

“Where did you find them?” Sugawara called from the other end of the Karasuno encampment. He was on his knees rolling up his clothing to stuff into his gym bag. Sawamura was beside him, doing a less than stellar job of his own packing.

“In the fountain out front,” Keishin sighed. He handed over the sopping sneakers.

“Oh no…” Hinata said, dismayed.

“Wait, did someone throw your shit in the fountain?” Kageyama rolled over from under his own coverlet, his angry eyes sparking in the fluorescent lighting. He seemed half asleep already.

“I don’t know…?” Hinata huffed. He carefully laid his shoes down. “I couldn’t find them after shower time. I hope they can dry before we leave tomorrow.” He propped them underneath the window.

Keishin stood over him, hands on his hips. “You didn’t see anyone take them?”

Hinata shook his head.

“Someone playing a prank on chibi-chan, eh?”

Keishin looked over and shouldn’t have been surprised to find that the bed roll beside Hinata’s was Kozume Kenma’s. Kenma was sitting, his cellphone in hand, and judging by the noises bleeping from it, he was playing some kind of racing game. He didn’t even look up at Keishin towering over him. Keishin blinked. Probably stranger was finding the Nekoma captain, Kuroo, sprawled out beside Kenma, his head resting in Kenma’s lap, like he was some lazy house cat vying for the setter’s attention. Didn’t these kids have an understanding of personal space? Kenma didn’t seem bothered at all. Maybe this was commonplace.

“If it was a prank, it was very cheap,” Keishin muttered, looking around the room. A few guys looked at one another. None of them seemed remotely concerned.

“I doubt anyone here would have done such a thing,” Sawamura said sternly.

“Whoever did wasn’t very smart about it,” Asahi murmured.

“It’s okay,” Hinata said cheerfully. “So long as I got my shoes back!” He grinned wide and Kenma actually deigned to look up from his game.

Keishin scratched his head. “Anyway,” he sighed, “it’s lights out in half an hour.” He pointed at Hinata and the pile of crap surrounding his bed roll. “You need to pack up. We won’t have time for your shenanigans in the morning.”

A couple Nekoma kids snickered.

“Coach,” Hinata whined, “I _will._ ”

“No you won’t,” Tsukishima muttered from somewhere behind Keishin.

“I will!” Hinata hissed. “Kenma said he was going to show me a super ninja method of packing up stuff.”

Kenma shrugged, “It’s not that super, Shouyo.”

“Fine, whatever,” Keishin said, “thirty minutes, all of you.”

“Nahhh, it’s barely even eight o’clock,” Kuroo whined,”we’re not babies. Well, I’m not.”

Keishin rolled his eyes, “I really don’t care.”

“You need your beauty sleep, captain,” the Nekoma mohawk kid snickered.

A pillow went flying past Keishin’s knee as he attempted the trip back to the door.

“Ow!” Yamaguchi wailed, “who hit me?”

“Oh, sorry! That was for Tanaka.”

“ _What?_ Why me? I’m trying to sleep!”

“It’s too late for you. No amount of beauty sleep will fix that face.”

“Everyone quiet down!” Sawamura barked.

“Listen to Daichi,” Kuroo laughed, “listen to your dad, kids.”

Keishin exited the classroom and shut the door behind him. He exhaled slowly, thankful that he wasn’t sixteen anymore, and went back to his own room, hoping for a good night’s rest.

* * *

With Tokyo done and dusted, it was back to the same old rigamarole of daily training and practice sessions.

Keishin was exhausted, even after taking the Sunday to recuperate. He still had to wake up early on Monday to help his parents pick vegetables from the farm they managed, and he still had a full shift down at the store. Sitting behind the counter all afternoon almost had him passing out from the boredom. They had very few customers after three PM, and most of them were kids on their way home anyway.

Eventually he made his way to the high school and began his second job of the day as coach. Some days, like today, he was actually glad, regardless of how tired he felt, to have something else to do.

* * *

“Today we start taking ourselves seriously,” Keishin said, standing before the team. “If we want to break through the other teams, we need to refocus on our weaknesses.”

He paced in front of the players, “In one week we face off for our first match in the Miyagi national qualifiers. We win there, and we’re another step closer to qualifying for the Spring Tournament. Do you understand?”

The team nodded.

“We want you to train hard these next few days, even if you think you can’t change much between now and then.” He glanced at Takeda, who was still fiddling with the projector. “Sensei over here says he has something to show you, to help you understand how to better yourselves.” _Or something to that effect._

“Ah, got it!” Takeda crowed. The gymnasium wall lit up as the projector bulb slowly glowed brighter. He turned to the students. “Our trip to Tokyo last week was very fruitful, wasn’t it?” he said, slapping the bottom of his fist into his other palm.

The team mumbled agreement.

“Yes,” Takeda nodded, all business. “Over the last few weeks the managers and I have been gathering what data we could, so as to compile statistics for you to work from. As a starting point, I mean. For playing better.”

Keishin looked at the kids. Hinata was very confused, his face all screwed up, and the rest looked blithely unimpressed. The third-years were wise enough to at least feign interest.

Keishin himself was _very_ interested. Takeda had come rushing up to him after last practice, requesting time to show them all his data. Keishin had no idea what was coming, but he trusted Takeda to handle it. Also, he couldn’t deny the other man when he looked so eager.

If it made the sensei’s face light up like that, then data and charts and pictures of puppies were always going to be welcome at every practice from here on out.

“Shimizu-san,” Takeda murmured, looking at the wall where his opening slide was coming into focus, “do you have the clicker? I thought I put it in my pocket–”

“Here, sensei,” Shimizu handed over a sleek black… thing.

“All right,” Takeda stood up and braced himself. He all but glowed with passion. “We have compiled statistics in every segment of gameplay. We have wins and losses,” he clicked the clicker and a new page slid onto the wall. It showed a grid with numbers and blocks of colours. “Here are all of our official and unofficial matches laid out against each opponent we’ve faced. From Aoba Johsai all the way down to Ubugawa.”

There was a lot of red on that grid. Keishin tried not to make a face.

“I know it looks scary,” Takeda smiled, “our matches haven’t always fallen in our favour, but if you pay attention, you’ll notice a positive increase in our points. The more we play, the better we have become.”

The kids still looked bored out of their skulls. Takeda cleared his throat, “Now the next few slides will showcase the moves made by each opposing team. Their strengths, their most-used plays, and how we fared against them.”

Takeda talked about defensive manoeuvres and spike percentages. He talked about player positioning and blocking techniques. He talked about who favoured what and how they fared not only against Karasuno, but how they had fared against one another. It was… well, it was very intense data, but it was also fascinating. Keishin rubbed his chin, taking it all in.

Takeda had done an excellent job of tabulating all of this information. He and the managers must have been working tirelessly the whole time they were in Tokyo; taking notes, marking points, keeping an eye on what players did what. It was really impressive.

“I know it’s a lot,” Takeda smiled weakly, probably noticing the pained expressions on his students’ faces. He carried on, “but I promise you, I’m seeing an upward curve, proof of performance from all of you. I can even show you definitively.”

He clicked through to the next slide. It showed a grid with percentages and success rates and a bar graph. At the top of the slide it was titled _Azumane Asahi._

“Ohhh,” Nishinoya cried out, leaning forward, “are those all of Asahi’s stats? That’s so cool!”

Keishin went over to take a closer look. Well, _hell._ It was.

Takeda grinned, “We weren’t just paying attention to how good our opponents were. We paid attention to you guys. We built a slide for each of you to review. From this data you can see where you’re strongest in terms of offense and defense, but also where you are weakest. Everyone was graded on the same scale. I hope this will be helpful to you. I want you to see your successes, but also your weak spots, points for improvement.” He leaned in front of the projected image and pointed to a number on the screen. “Here you can see Asahi’s spike success rate. It’s not bad, is it?”

Everyone nodded, even Keishin.

“And here,” Takeda pointed to another number further down, “is Asahi’s blocking success rate. Room for improvement, even as one of the tallest players. We wouldn’t have known that without all the games we played. Something easy to work on, yes?”

“Whoa,” Hinata said, “where’s my page, sensei?”

“Be patient,” Keishin tutted, “let Takeda-sensei show you.”

Takeda smiled in thanks, “You all have data. I’ve printed this deck out for you to take home and review.” He waved Yachi and Shimizu closer. They were carrying a stack each of printed and coil-bound booklets. “I hope it helps you see yourselves outside of your uniforms, outside of your own heads. I want you to know that no matter how it _feels_ to maybe lose a point here or there, overall, based on percentages, you’re actually all doing much better now than you were four weeks ago.”

“Eh,” Hinata scratched his head, “Are you sure, sensei? I’m not good with stuff like this.”

“Trust _me_ , then,” Takeda smiled kindly, “I can help explain it. This is what I’m good at, Hinata-kun. You can all ask me about your stats, and any questions you have, I will do my best to answer them.”

“Okay,” Hinata said, letting his hands flop onto his crossed legs. Keishin smirked. _There_ was a kid who trusted easily.

Keishin couldn’t help grinning at the way the students were now all paying attention to Takeda. The man really was surprising at every turn, wasn’t he?

* * *

“Takeda-san,” Keishin waved him forward, over to the table where two men were sitting, “you’ve met Shimada, and this other guy is Takinoue Yuusuke. These are my dumb friends.”

“Hello!” Takeda bowed and smiled broadly. He slid onto the bench seat opposite Keishin’s friends. “I’m happy to meet you both again.”

“Ah, Kei-kun said he’d need some input from Karasuno’s superstar alumni,” Yuusuke said.

“Superstar, uh huh,” Keishin snorted and slid into the space beside Takeda. “Yeah, right.”

“We ordered some snacks,” Shimada grinned. “Keishin said you didn’t know about this place before he showed it to you.”

“Ah, yeah,” Takeda chuckled. “I didn’t grow up here. I seem to be missing a lot of local insider info.”

Keishin waved the waiter over, “Beer?” he asked Takeda.

“Sure.”

“So what’s the deal here?” Yuusuke said, leaning forward on his elbows. “What do you guys need?”

“Well,” Takeda said, “Karasuno goes up against Ohgiminami High in two days and I was wondering what any previous players would have to contribute, going into the qualifiers.”

“And Kei-kun recommended us?” Yuusuke grinned.

“No,” Keishin grunted, “we weren’t gonna ask anyone anything. But then I remembered you and me, we all went to qualifiers once. Maybe you remember anything important?”

Shimada hummed, “I don’t think I remember anything outside of us getting our butts kicked.”

“Same,” Yuusuke said. “I remember coach being so quiet on the bus ride home.”

“Your grandfather?” Takeda asked.

“Yep,” Keishin sighed.

“Do you think you’ve got a good chance?” Shimada said. “The team’s looking good? I know Tadashi’s pumped about it.”

“You’re still training him?” Takeda asked.

“Yeah,” Shimada grinned, “It’s not a lot of work, really. We don’t need a court to do it. His jump floats are getting smoother.”

“He’s much better these days,” Takeda nodded, “he’s more determined, it seems, more invested.”

“Oh,” Keishin blinked, remembering something. “Takeda-san, I forgot to tell you!” He twisted in his seat excitedly. “At Tokyo, Tsukishima came to ask me about how to play better!”

“Oh?” Takeda’s eyes went wide and round. “ _Really_?”

“Yeah!” Keishin grinned. “I think the Nekoma brats got to him, made him feel like he wasn’t trying hard enough, like he went into games already defeated.”

Their food and drinks arrived.

“Ooooh!” Takeda’s shoulders scrunched up as he swayed in his seat. “I would never have guessed that! Tsukishima’s so uptight about feedback!”

“He’s the tall blondie, right?” Yuusuke said, wiping beer foam off his upper lip.

“Tadashi’s best friend?” Shimada added.

“Yup,” Keishin swigged back his own beer. He slammed his glass down on the table with relish. “I almost died when he approached me. _Me_! For help! I’m such a great coach!”

His friends immediately started snorting with laughter.

“You are a fantastic coach!” Takeda beamed.

“Okay, okay,” Yuusuke laughed, “are you for real? _This guy_?”

Keishin kicked him under the table, “Bastard.”

“Ow!”

“Eh?” Takeda looked between Keishin’s friends, “Ukai-kun is a great coach. I’m not surprised at all that Tsukishima went to him. Ukai-kun knows the answers to anything volleyball. If any of the students asked _me_ they’d be in trouble. I don’t know enough about anything, really. I can’t even set up the net properly before a match.”

He pulled his giant beer mug close and sipped at it. _Fuck,_ he was so endearing it made Keishin want to set himself on fire.

“Hey, you only fell over that one time because the box you were standing on wasn’t high enough,” he said, recalling the memory of Takeda tumbling over and yanking the net down with him. The team had fun untangling him from that mess.

Takeda shrugged, “I should have stayed back. You all don’t need my help.”

Keishin smiled. He caught Shimada watching him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Shimada said, “Takeda-san seems impressed with you.”

“Glad someone is,” Yuusuke grinned.

“I’m a fucking blessing,” Keishin leaned across the table. He flicked Yuusuke’s nose.

“So, sensei,” Shimada said over the slap-fight that started up. “Where are you from if not here?”

“I grew up in Sendai,” Takeda grinned. He cracked open some edamame and popped them into his mouth, “so not too far from here.”

“What brought you to Karasuno?”

“Well, I was looking for a teaching job and they were very thin on the ground in the city. So I searched further afield and Karasuno had a couple spots open. Seems a few older senseis had retired and I was the newest teacher they’d had in a while.”

“Ow, stop,” Keishin muttered when Yuusuke kicked his shin. He scooted back in his seat and cradled his beer to his chest.

“Oh, so you’re fresh out of teaching college?” Shimada asked. He picked up a dumpling and popped it into his mouth. Keishin tugged at the edamame plate, pulling it close enough to snag a couple.

“Not quite,” Takeda chuckled, “I taught late night cram school for university applicants for a few years before coming here. You take what you can get, you know?”

“Sensei here teaches science stuff,” Keishin said, tearing into the edamame pods.

“Oh a smarty-pants,” Yuusuke said, “why are you hanging around this moron, then?”

“Good question,” Keishin said, “why are _you_ , Takinoue? Huh? Pretty sure we graduated the same year with the same shitty grades, bastard.”

“I feel sorry for you,” Yuusuke said sniffily. “That’s why we’re friends. Sympathy, plain and simple.”

Shimada laughed, “Please ignore their bickering. These two have been friends since they were in kindergarten. Their _mothers_ are friends.”

“Oh, did you all grow up here?” Takeda asked, obviously keenly interested.

“Uh-huh,” Shimada nodded. “Small town kids. Small town adults, I suppose.”

Takeda smiled, “It’s a good place to grow up, I think.”

“You don’t miss the city?” Yuusuke said around his beer mug.

Takeda shook his head, “No. I quite like the peace and quiet out here. Plus, I was able to afford a home, which was unfathomable in Sendai.”

“You see?” Yuusuke pointed to Keishin, “ _some_ people own homes. Grown-ups.”

“Shut it,” Keishin muttered.

“He’s lived in the same apartment since he moved out of his parents’ place,” Shimada explained to Takeda, “you ever seen it?”

“No,” Takeda shook his head.

Like Keishin was taking Takeda _home_ with him! _Pssssht._ How _absurd!_

* * *

Keishin pulled out his wallet the minute Takeda went to the restroom. As much as he’d anticipated this dinner with Takeda alone, sharing it with his friends had turned out quite nice.

He’d been thinking of it as a date, but that was because he was a ridiculous idiot who still hadn’t atoned for his slip-up in Tokyo. _A date?_ _Honestly._

He waved the waiter down.

“So,” Yuusuke said, leaning back in his seat. “Takeda-san’s nice.”

“Yup,” Keishin dug out some cash and pressed it to the table.

Yuusuke and Shimada glanced at one another.

Keishin handed the waiter the money, “no change, thanks.”

Once the waiter was gone, he looked at his friends. “What?” he frowned at their expressions.

“He’s cute, huh?” Shimada said.

Keishin froze, then scowled. “What are you on about?”

“Takeda-kun,” Yuusuke said, “you and him? You gonna… you know?” He made some weird, unidentifiable finger movements in the air.

“What?” Keishin hissed, leaning forward. “Are you mad?”

Shimada laughed, “Kei, you clearly have a thing for the guy. Don’t lie to us, your best friends. Please, have some dignity and own up to your terrible choices.”

“Takeda is _not_ a terrible choice,” Keishin blurted before he could stop himself. He slapped his hand over his mouth.

Both of his friends grinned like the devils they were.

“A hah!” Yuusuke said gleefully, “you _do want_ to jump his nerdy bones!”

“I said terrible choice because only you, Kei, would fall for your high school volleyball team’s advisor.” Shimada sighed and shook his head ruefully, “you idiot.”

“Ughhhhh,” Keishin dropped his forehead onto the table, “you guys are the _worst_.”

“Yes, but you love us anyway,” Yuusuke burped.

“I hate you.”

“Hey,” Shimada said, “you’ve picked worse. Remember that married chick in Okinawa when we were like twenty? That was a close one.”

“Oh, ya, I remember her,” Yuusuke said, eyes glazing over.

Keishin lifted his head and dropped it again, wishing he could thump the memories out of his brain. He sat up and put his hands in his hair. “I don’t know what to do, okay? I’m not supposed to like him. But he’s just… well, you saw him! You heard him! How can I _not?_ ”

Yuusuke blinked at him, “It’s bad, huh?”

“Very bad,” Keishin scowled, “and he doesn’t know, okay? I don’t even think he’s gay, so shut up about it.”

“Hmm,” Shimada hummed and swirled the soy sauce bottle on the table between his palms. “I don’t know, Kei. He seems to like you very much.”

Keishin wanted to hear that again. He wanted very much to interpret those words positively. But he couldn’t.

“He’s just nice like that to everyone.”

“Uh huh, sure,” Shimada cocked a brow at him. “He sure as shit wasn’t giving us any glowing praise every five minutes.”

“He doesn’t even know you,” Keishin snapped. “If he did, even he would be hard pressed to make either of you sound like decent human beings.”

Takeda reappeared across the restaurant and began the trek back to their table.

“You tell anyone about this and I’ll cut your dicks off,” Keishin growled menacingly.

His friends burst out laughing. “Sure, sure, we got your back.”

“Oh, did the bill already come?” Takeda said, seeing the receipt on the table.

“On me this time, remember?” Keishin said. He leaned over to grab Takeda’s bag from where he’d left it.

“Oh no, Ukai-kun, you don’t have–“

“On _me,_ ” Keishin said, getting to his feet. He stared down at Takeda, pressing the bag to the other man’s chest.

Takeda blinked, “okay,” he smiled like the sun. “Thank you.”

Keishin pointedly ignored the dumb looks his stupid friends were giving him.

* * *

Ohgiminami turned out to be an excellent match right upfront. For Karasuno, not for Ohgiminami. Keishin had been nervous, thinking that a single upset this early on would ruin Karasuno’s mentality, would set them up for failure, but they rolled easily through their first match and right through their second with Kakugawa. This meant that not only were they going on to the National Qualifiers in October, but that they’d upped their chances of meeting the best of the best in Miyagi. Keishin couldn’t believe their luck. Maybe this really was working after all.

He couldn’t believe how far they’d all come. It was a miracle.

* * *

“Your hair,” Takeda said when Keishin entered the gymnasium a couple weeks later.

“Ah, yeah,” Keishin patted his newly trimmed and dyed locks. “My cousin did it for me. She uses me for her hairstyling training. I’m her puppet.”

“It looks good,” Takeda smiled.

Well, that was nice to hear from one’s object of affection. Keishin wanted to preen, but he couldn’t. It was foolhardy. He actually didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. Over the past weeks he’d resigned himself to the fact that Takeda was out of reach, that all of Keishin’s daydreaming about maybe bringing up the kiss, or negotiating another night of dinner, perhaps at a nicer restaurant, was all in vain.

This crush, whatever he could call it, was slowly eating him alive.

He’d tried to tamp it down, tried to bury it, but he couldn’t help the way Takeda made him feel. It was so stupid not to be able to control it. Months ago he had been a free man, devoid of any and all emotional attachments. He’d been okay that way. Not great, but okay. It had worked quite well for him.

Whatever it was that drew him to Takeda was still working its magic. Even now, watching the sensei organize the next round of training for the team, Keishin couldn’t help staring.

Takeda had worked tirelessly to build up sponsorship money to fund the team’s future travel plans. He’d managed to convince not only Shimada’s family market to donate, but other Karasuno local organizations as well. The man was relentless, passionate, and he did it all so these kids could have their time in the spotlight.

He was kind and empathetic and he was there for the kids, giving them pep talks and helping them understand what they needed to work on.

It was _killing_ Keishin.

Who’d have thought that a short, dorky nerd of a teacher would become his downfall?

His friends still ribbed him about it, always asking about _Take-chan_ this and _Sensei-kun_ that. It wasn’t really funny anymore. It was downright terrible.

Keishin had woken up more than a couple times from dreams where he was reliving that moment in the shower, where Takeda’s towel slipped, or their lips touched, or somehow, magically, they were absolved of all responsibility and could roll around in the sack like idiots. He was reverting back to his teenage self, where he could be derailed from menial tasks by hot flashes of imagery crashing through his consciousness, knocking him off his feet.

He couldn’t _do_ anything about it.

Takeda was still his colleague and a teacher at the high school, and Keishin was still a super lame guy who hadn’t anything to offer anyone. It was starting to get depressing.

* * *

Before they knew it, October was upon them and the team had trained day in and day out for this.

Playing Johzenji High was different to other opponents they’d faced before. Here was a team that was disorganized and hyper-focused on individual talents.

“If we can break their process, what little there is,” he said to Takeda before the second set began, “I think we’ve got this, sensei.”

Takeda looked determined. He flipped through his iPad. “I agree,” he said, then tapped the screen, “they’re a little wild, and they lack structure. You think this positioning will work? We haven’t tried it yet.”

Keishin reviewed the dots on the screen, each one a placeholder for the Karasuno players, “Yeah, let’s give it a go. Why not?”

Takeda gave Keishin a thumbs-up. “You’ve got this, coach.”

Keishin could probably stoke his internal engines forever on that alone.

“No, _we’ve_ got it,” he grinned and high-fived Takeda before heading off to update the team on the changes.

* * *

Wakutani was a little different, a little harder to get through, but they fucking did it. Karasuno made it through to the next round. They were going to continue playing after all and Keishin was _living_.

* * *

“Oh my, I’m so nervous,” Takeda whispered as the teams lined up on opposite ends of the court. They were finally back here, back in the Sendai stadium, ready to do battle.

“Tell me about it,” Keishin murmured as he watched the Aoba Johsai players bow to Karasuno. The Seijoh cheering squad was off the charts loud. “Let’s see how this match goes, huh?”

He caught sight of the small crowd of Karasuno supporters: Yuusuke, Shimada and Tanaka’s sister clapping loudly from the stands. Shimada waved his arms above his head. “Let’s go, Karasuno!”

Keishin grinned.

“We’re ready this time,” Takeda said. He sat down on the seats provided to them beside the court.

This game was going to be different, Keishin knew it.

“We’re not going to lose, Ukai-kun.”

 _I hope not_ , Keishin thought. Passion alone could only get them so far. Now they had to prove themselves against one of the toughest teams in the prefecture.

“I think Seijoh’s going to be very surprised this time around,” Keishin said. He watched Kageyama carefully, aware that his setter was on edge, had been all week leading up to this match. They had a lot to lose this time around, not just their pride.

“We do this, we’re probably facing off against Shiratorizawa, sensei,” Keishin said under his breath.

He felt a hand press against his thigh and he almost swallowed his tongue in surprise.

Takeda patted his leg, “I know. Don’t worry. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” he looked at Keishin with a determined spark in his eyes. “Let’s give it our best shot, coach.”

“Ah, yeah,” Keishin said, feeling the heat rising behind his ears. He really was a goner.


	7. 7

Keishin watched as Aoba Johsai and Karasuno began their warm-ups.

“Oh, is Hinata okay?” Takeda murmured.

Keishin looked across the court and saw the redhead clutching his belly. “Oh, no,” he sighed. “Him and his nervous bowels, I swear,” he covered his eyes.

“What are the setters doing?” Shimizu murmured from the other side of Takeda.

Keishin looked towards the net and found Kageyama trying to wrestle a ball out of Oikawa’s grasp. “What in the hell?” _We’re still in warm-ups!_ “I thought we had this one? Are they all just falling apart?” He got to his feet to yell, but then Oikawa released the ball with a flourish, letting Kageyama fall to his ass while he laughed like some maniacal dictator.

“Is he really their captain?” Takeda said, watching Oikawa with furrowed brows.

“Pardon me a moment,” Shimizu said and was on her feet and speed-walking across the court.

“Oh god, what now?” Keishin whined.

“Uh…” Takeda glanced between the mess that was Oikawa and Kageyama, and then over to some Seijoh player who’d crossed over the sideline toward Yachi-san. “I don’t know–?“

The Seijoh player was smiling and waving at Yachi. He was saying something. _What the hell?_ Couldn’t he see she was terrified of him?

“Look out!” someone else yelled and a ball suddenly flew at Yachi, aimed right at her head. Keishin got to his feet with a gasp. If that hit her, it was going to knock her out!

Shimizu was already there. She swiped the ball aside, saving her shaking kouhai with a flick of her wrist.

The Seijoh player that had approached seemed to hesitate, then backed off after one look at Shimizu’s expression.

“Uh…” Keishin wavered, confused, thensat back down. He turned to Takeda with wide eyes. “I guess… this is going to be a mess of a game, huh?”

“Oh my,” Takeda took his glasses off and began cleaning them with the hem of his t-shirt. He wiped and wiped, checking the lenses before wiping some more, shaking his head all the while. “I think it might.”

* * *

The game was on a roll already. Of course Aoba Johsai would open their serve with Oikawa, but this time Karasuno was ready. They’d trained for this. They remembered what had happened last time and they weren’t going to make it easy for Seijoh.

Kageyama lined up to serve.

“You’ve got this, Kageyama!” Takeda yelled through his cupped hands.

Kageyama looked pressed. Oikawa was something of a fly on his windshield. He jumped, served and–

“Damn it,” Keishin hissed when the ball smacked into the net. Kageyama looked angry enough to strip a volleyball with his teeth.

“Next time, next time,” Sawamura said loudly, always encouraging his juniors.

Keishin had his eyes on the Seijoh offence but could tell he’d need to pay attention to their defense as well. Their ace was on point.

“What’s his name again?” Keishin leaned into Takeda’s space. He nodded at Seijoh’s number four.

“Iwaizumi,” Takeda said, right off the top of his head. Keishin was impressed.

Iwaizumi was a beast. He could serve and block and he had an eye for organizing the team. It was as if Seijoh had two captains. Keishin wondered if that was on purpose, or if every player had the right to order others around like that.

“Their blocks are intense,” Takeda murmured as Seijoh threw yet another ball side. “Hinata looks worried.”

Takeda was right. With Nishinoya and Asahi taking the first point for Karasuno, and all of Kageyama’s passes going to everyone other than Hinata, the redhead was feeling the pressure, probably. He always went a little green when he thought he wasn’t up to scratch.

Kageyama must have noticed Hinata’s nerves as well, because, after yet another botched play, turned to his teammate and roundly kicked him in the ass while yelling incoherently at the redhead. Hinata yelped.

Keishin hoped the ref wasn’t paying attention.

“Ace serving,” Takeda said.

Keishin refocused on the Seijoh number four. Iwaizumi jumped and smashed the ball _hard_.

“Jeez,” Keishin gasped as the ball flew into the net. If that had gone over it could have been an easy service ace. “Lucky.”

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa singsonged from the first setter position. “You’re supposed to hit it _over_!” He mimed a ball flying overhead.

“Shut up, idiot!” Iwaizumi yelled right back. Oikawa responded with a wink and a flick of his tongue.

“I sometimes forget that these players are all children,” Takeda said with a nervous chuckle.

“I know, same,” Keishin exhaled.

* * *

The training really had paid off. Hinata was listening. For once he was recalling all the lessons Keishin had drilled into him.

“Delay, delay,” Keishin huffed under his breath as Hinata and Kageyama lined up to block. “Yes!” Keishin punched the air as it worked out for them, both players only just managing to halt Seijoh’s ball.

“Sugawara kept telling Hinata to delay on the bus,” Takeda smiled at Keishin. “I wondered what that was about.”

“Yeah,” Keishin grinned. “He jumps too early for Seijoh. Glad it’s finally sinking in. It only took months of training.”

Oikawa was up to serve again. Every time he stood there with that dead look in his eyes, Keishin could feel Karasuno shaking in their sneakers.

The whistle blew.

Oikawa made a short run up then leapt. He swung his arm out and slammed it home. The ball rocketed over the net so fast, Keishin’s neck clicked as he flicked his head to the side to follow it. It hit the floor, distended, then ricocheted off toward the back wall.

The whole gymnasium seemed to hold its breath in surprise.

“Out!” and a whistle bleeped.

“Oh _fuck_ , my heart,” Keishin grabbed at his chest. “Holy shit, did you _see_ that thing?”

“That was so fast!” Takeda cried out. “Was that even real?”

The whole of Karasuno was reeling, sweat dripping as they all probably saw their lives flash before their eyes.

“Sorry, sorry!” Oikawa cried out, his teammates immediately rebuffing his apologies. “I’ll get it in next time.”

Holy hell, were they _accustomed_ to him just blowing balls over the net like they were cannons?

“A ball like that could seriously hurt someone,” Takeda muttered to himself. “We don’t want anyone losing a limb.”

“You sound like Yachi-chan, sensei,” Shimizu murmured.

* * *

Another round of serves and a long rally later and they were sitting at a Karasuno set point.

“Oh, they’re swapping out a player,” Takeda said.

“Who’s he?” Keishin watched Seijoh’s number sixteen step onto the court. “Is he new?” The kid had bleached hair and two stripes shaved into it.

“Ah,” Takeda frowned, “he didn’t play with them last time. Maybe new?”

“Great,” Keishin clenched his jaw, “an unknown. Just what we need” And judging by Seijoh’s qualifications, the kid would have to be really good.

The next serve from Seijoh turned into a long rally, the ball flying back and forth. Oikawa and Iwaizumi were _good_. It was like they spoke in telepathy, could communicate in split-seconds. But then again, Oikawa was good with everyone on his team, it’s what he was famous for, wasn’t it? He could set for anyone.

“ _Kindaichi,_ ” Oikawa said, setting up an almost perfect shot.

“Asahi, Tanaka!” Keishin barked. They weren’t at the net yet, the block was too slow!

The ball flew from Oikawa’s hands and then the Seijoh number sixteen, the unknown guy, he was suddenly just _there_. He shoved his way into the play, leapt and slammed the ball through Karasuno’s defence.

“What in the–“ Keishin yelped, “did he just–“

“That’s not good,” Takeda said. His eyes were on Oikawa and Keishin could see why.

The whistle blew.

 _Out_.

Karasuno cheered, probably relieved.

Oikawa looked _pissed_ , as did their coaches.

“That ball wasn’t for number sixteen, was it?” Takeda turned to lock eyes with Keishin.

“Definitely not,” Keishin said. “That kid stole the ball. Fuckin’ crazy.”

“That’s not great for them,” Takeda said.

“Makes them look unpolished, for sure,” Keishin murmured, resting his mouth against his clasped hands and pressing his elbows into his knees. Oikawa was the captain and would need to handle this. How was he going to handle such insubordination?

“You idiot!” Seijoh’s number four, Iwaizumi, smacked number sixteen upside the head. “That wasn’t your ball!”

Keishin blinked, surprised. _Huh._ Maybe Seijoh _did_ have two captains after all.

“Good for us, though,” Takeda smiled, “first set: Karasuno!”

Keishin blinked and shifted in his seat, eyes snapping to the scores.

“Holy shit!” he hadn’t even noticed! “Yes!”

* * *

The team gathered for their quick in-between sets pep talk. Keishin left this one up to Takeda who was very inspiring, without fail.

“You’re up against a tough opponent,” Takeda was saying with that now-familiar sharpness in his eyes. “And you are standing your ground very well.” The boys chugged back water provided by the managers. “If you keep consistently pressing them, they will realize, perhaps a little too late, that Karasuno is not the same team it was before. You’ve become much better at fighting back, at stopping their balls.”

Sugawara nodded. The others followed suit. “Takeda-sensei,” Sugawara said, “we didn’t expect them to have that new guy, though. He’s fast.”

“He is,” Takeda nodded, “and he might be an unknown to us, which is unfortunate, but that’s not enough to stop you all from running through the plays you practised. Our defense is up, our offense is better, and we know what to expect from the rest of Seijoh. Ninety percent knowledge is enough to overcome the missing ten percent.”

The team nodded in unison.

Keishin cleared his throat and they all looked his way. “Strategically, what we’ve set up so far is working, but don’t get cocky now that we have the first set. Always play like we have three sets, so save your energy where you can. If anyone’s still sore from the last match,” he glanced at Sawamura and his still-bruised left cheek, “speak up and we can sub you. Energy wasted too early on can kill us at the end.” He nodded to Yamaguchi, “I will be making you serve. Prepare for it.”

The kid stiffened, his shoulders bunching up around his ears, then nodded quickly, “Yes, coach!”

Keishin smirked, “I can’t have Shimada whining at me that I never let his star pupil play.”

As if on cue, the Karasuno cheer squad started chanting.

“Let’s go, Karasuno!”

“Ryuuuuu! You got thisss!”

Tanaka looked like he wanted to melt through the floorboards. “My sister is so embarrassing,” he muttered under flaming red cheeks.

“Oi, at least we have supporters,” Sawamura said. “We never had any before.”

And wasn’t that just the saddest thing ever? Keishin glanced at Takeda, who seemed to be thinking the same thing.

* * *

“Oh! Nice block!” Takeda yelled as Hinata and Kageyama blocked number sixteen’s side shot.

“Kyoutani, pay attention to the blockers up front!” one of the Seijoh players yelled.

“He’s a loose cannon,” Takeda said, turning to Keishin.

“We need to swap out Tsukishima,” Keishin said quietly.

Takeda blinked, “Eh? Really? Is he not playing well?”

“It’s not that,” Keishin said, standing up. “Oikawa’s getting to Kageyama. It’s showing.”

“Are we taking Kageyama out?”

“Mm,” Keishin sighed, waiting for the moment to signal the changeout. “No, let’s try a two-set play.”

Takeda nodded, “good thinking.”

* * *

“Coach, you were right!” Sugawara said after he’d played and eventually swapped back out. “Two setters against Oikawa was smart.”

“He looked annoyed from here,” Keishin grinned, “good job, Sugawara.”

“Oh, he was _very_ annoyed,” Sugawara laughed and jogged back over to the reserve players.

“You knew that would upset him?” Takeda said, mouth open.

Keishin winked, “Oikawa’s obviously got some bone to pick with our star setter, so if we can poke that bruise a little, why not give it a go?”

“Sneaky, sneaky,” Takeda snickered.

* * *

“Sensei!” Ukai barked, almost vibrating out of his body with nerves. This set was turning out to be too much of a workout for his poor heart. He waved his hands frantically, which was the best system of communication he and Takeda had worked out after all these months.

“Yes!” Takeda leapt to his feet and immediately called a time-out to the referee.

After a few games’ experience, it had become clear that Keishin was truly incapable of calling time-outs because he was a mess of nerves and couldn’t articulate jack shit in this state. So Takeda always leapt into action whenever he freaked, and took over the role of time-outs.

The whistle blew and the teams relaxed.

Karasuno gathered around the coaches.

“Why time-out, coach?” Hinata sucked back his water.

“We’re closing in on Seijoh,” Keishin said. “But they’re learning fast. We can’t keep using the same plays. The back fast spike didn’t fly, did it?”

Both Hinata and Kageyama shook their heads and pouted like children.

“Right, so I want you all to pay attention. They’re using that sixteen to overpower their spikes but the older players are also stepping up when he’s in our focus. Don’t let them play you by using him as decoy.”

“Uss!” the team said.

When the whistle blew for them to get back on the court, Keishin loped back to their seats.

“I know, I know,” he sighed, feeling a burning heat against his back.

“What?” Takeda said, sitting up straight and looking at him questioningly.

“Yamaguchi wants to play,” Keishin smirked and tilted his head. “Can’t you feel that?”

Takeda glanced over at the reserve players. Yamaguchi was poised, tensed up and obviously dying to join his teammates on the court. His eyes were burning with a determination so bright it could blind anyone who looked too closely. Takeda nodded. “Yeah, actually, I can.”

* * *

“Ahhh!” Keishin leapt to his feet, bellowing.

“Yamaguchi!” Takeda cried out, arms in the air.

“Second service ace!” Nishinoya wailed as the rest of the team piled onto Yamaguchi.

“Amazing!” Takeda said. “Amazing! Jump float and two service aces! Wow!”

“It’s not that surprising,” they could hear Tsukishima say, “he’s been practising serves more than the rest of us.”

And then they all transferred their adoration from Yamaguchi to him and slapped _his_ back and rubbed his hair, ribbing him for supporting his teammate in the worst way possible.

Keishin turned and looked up into the crowd of spectators. He caught Shimada’s eye and threw a thumbs-up. Shimada grinned and gave him a double air-high-five.

“Such improvement!” Takeda bumped his shoulder into Keishin’s. “Ah! I’m so stressed!”

* * *

“Oh, shit,” Keishin muttered as Oikawa lined up.

“What?” Takeda said. He was perched on the edge of his seat like a bird, too tense to relax.

“Oikawa’s up and he’s going to power serve,” Keishin chewed out.

“How can you tell?”

Keishin looked over at Sawamura, who nodded, then tapped Asahi’s elbow. _Okay, good. Message passed on._

“See the ace?” Keishin murmured, leaning in to speak softly with Takeda.

“Oh,” Takeda nodded, “he’s covering the back of his head.” He looked at Keishin with wide brown eyes, “because he doesn’t want the ball to hit him. And he’s only concerned now because Oikawa gives up accuracy when he focuses on strength!”

“Exactly,” Keishin grinned, pride welling inside his gut. “You catch on so quick, sensei.”

“Ah, heh,” Takeda blushed, “I learned from the best.”

And, as predicted, Oikawa’s next serve could have taken off someone’s head. What a monster he was.

* * *

The game kept moving at a clip and Keishin could feel his back muscles tensing, so bent over was he on the bench. He was going to be so stiff tonight. But he had to focus, had to keep his eyes on the game, on the ball, on his players, and the opponent players. Yamaguchi had scored them some good points and Oikawa’s serves were still unstoppable, but Karasuno was taking back their time. They were chipping away at their enemies bit by bit.

“That fuckin’ ace duo,” he hissed under his breath as Oikawa fed yet another perfect ball to number four. Karasuno just had to get Oikawa’s serve receives up, up in the air so that anyone could tip it over the net again.

This third set was intense, as he’d expected.

“Out!” Tsukishima yelled as a ball from number sixteen flew at him on the back line.

“Nice!” Keishin barked. Thank god some of his players were paying attention.

“Tanaka seems to be getting to number sixteen,” Takeda murmured.

“Yeah,” Keishin agreed. He had noticed how riled up the Seijoh player was getting. “Let’s hope it works.”

* * *

Hinata always played it fast and loose and sometimes it drove Keishin to madness, but for once it worked.

“Yes!” Keishin yelled. “What a stupid spike! But a point’s a point!”

The rest of the team stomped and jumped around like idiots after witnessing Hinata and Kageyama’s effort play out for once.

Then they kept moving, the plays getting longer and faster and way more troublesome.

When Seijoh’s number sixteen switched to his left hand and spiked the ball home, almost all of the Karasuno players turned to look at Keishin, mouths open.

“A switch-hitter!” Takeda cried out, “Just like you, Ukai-kun!”

“Now they get it,” Keishin groaned and wiped at his brow.

With Kageyama and Sugawara in play at the same time, it was obvious Seijoh was on edge.

Iwaizumi landed a couple more spikes, even after Asahi targeted him with a serve and Sugawara did the same. They can’t seem to slow any of the players down.

They do, however work out a masterful set where Sugawara passes to Kageyama who dumps the ball right in front of Oikawa. It was fantastic!

“I’m going to expire right here on the court,” Keishin whined, pushing at his hair, wiping it back.

“You can’t die until we win!” Takeda said, hands in fists.

In one crazy moment, Oikawa threw his body off-court, flying into the sidelines. It looked like it hurt but the kid just leapt back up and was back on the court in seconds.

 _These idiots will kill themselves for the game_ , Keishin thought with wonder. Oh to be so young and foolish.

And then, somehow, in some magical way, they made it to set point and Hinata was up to spike. He flew high into the air. Keishin was on his feet, heart stuck in his throat as he watched the redhead slam the ball.

It didn’t go over the block, instead touching the blockers’ fingers and flying off to the side.

Oikawa and the rest of Seijoh looked stunned.

“Did-“ Keishin didn’t dare breathe.

The whistle blew. Set and match to Karasuno.

“Ahhhh!” Takeda wailed and jumped to his feet. “We won!”

“We won!” Keishin hollered, punching the air.

Karasuno burst into a flurry of noise, the players leaping all over one another. The audience went wild. Even though most of the spectators were here to see Aoba Johsai, they seemed just as surprised by Karasuno winning as Seijoh was.

“Amazing!” Takeda wailed, jumping up and down excitedly. He spun to Keishin. “They did it!”

“We did it!” Keishin yelled and swept Takeda up into his arms and spun him around like a rag doll. Keishin was overjoyed. It took him a second to realize that he had Takeda smushed to his chest. He stopped leaping around like an idiot and gently put the man down.

“Ah, sorry, sensei,” he laughed, “got carried away for a moment.” He grinned with joy.

Takeda’s cheeks were pink and his glasses were askew, but he did grin right back. “Congratulations, coach, we’re going to the finals!”

“Yes!” Keishin bellowed and immediately got bowled over by his own team of monstrous children.

* * *

“I’m so proud!” Takeda wailed for the tenth time. “So proud! You all did it!”

“Sensei,” Keishin chuckled and patted the man’s seat. “Sit. You’re going to pass out if you keep jumping up every five minutes.”

Takeda flopped back into his seat, beer raised high. He was blubbering and his cheeks were wet and his curls were a mess, and he really just looked overwhelmed and happy, which was adorable.

“You all did so well,” Takeda said. “You deserve this meal, you deserve everything.”

“We haven’t won the finals yet, sensei,” Sugawara grinned from his usual spot beside Sawamura.

“Sensei’s just happy for us,” Ennoshita smiled genially.

“He is,” Keishin laughed. He slammed his palm on the table, “I am too.”

“Same here,” Shimizu said, which seemed to have way more of an effect than either his or Takeda’s words. The boys all swooned under her praise.

“Kiyoko-san is proud of us!” Tanaka and Nishinoya wailed like babies.

“Eat up!” Sawamura barked. “Sensei has paid good money for this food. You must finish your plates!”

Keishin grinned and swigged back his own beer.

When everyone had left and Keishin was outside the restaurant, he looked skyward. It was a clear night, with nary a cloud in the sky; A perfect night for a perfect game-winning day.

“Ah, sorry, my card was a bit slow,” Takeda said, as the door chimed on his way out.

Keishin puffed out his last breath of smoke. He dropped his cigarette in the standing ashtray beside the wall, “No problem, sensei. Thanks for covering the bill.”

“It was my pleasure,” Takeda said with equal parts glee and pride. “They deserved every bite.”

The two of them began the walk back towards the school where they would split off.

“I know I wasn’t playing,” Keishin said, “but I feel like I was. My back and arms and head are _killing_ me.” He wriggled his fingers and made thunder and lightning noises.

Takeda chuckled, “I think I understand.” He rubbed a hand over his curls. “I feel in a daze. Like it can’t be real. I’ve never been a part of anything like this before.”

“It was real,” Keishin sighed. He walked a little slower, not just to keep pace with Takeda, but to draw out their journey. “You’re going to relax this weekend, right?”

“I think so,” Takeda smiled up at the stars, noticing them for the first time. “My body is telling me to sleep already.”

“Good,” Keishin murmured, eyes wandering over the sensei’s face, the speckling of stars reflected on his lenses.

They walked a bit further in silence. Keishin wasn’t certain, but he thought perhaps he wouldn’t have actually survived that match without Takeda. The man had to not only keep his composure and pump up the team’s morale, but he had to organize the managers and _corral_ Keishin’s hot mess of a mind during time-outs. “You did a lot today,” he said out loud. “Thanks.”

“Only my job,” Takeda looked up at him.

“Well, sort of. You don’t get paid for this, do you, Takeda-san?”

“Hm, no, but I feel like today I did, if that makes sense?”

Keishin snorted, “It does; If only adrenaline were a real currency.”

Takeda chuckled as they approached the high school. The gates were shut, the last of the students and staff having gone home long ago.

“Well, I go this way,” Keishin tilted his head to the left.

“And I’m that way,” Takeda pointed the other way.

“Unless…” Keishin said before cutting himself off.

Takeda’s brows rose in question.

“Well,” Keishin scratched his chin, “No, okay, it’s late. You need rest.”

“No, what is it?” Takeda tilted his head like an owl.

“Well…” Keishin chewed his lip, “Yuusuke left a bottle of good sake at my place. Said if we won, it was his gift. And if we lost, a different kind of gift to drown my sorrows in. I don’t think it’s much of a gift if I drink it by myself.”

“Oh,” Takeda blinked. He considered whatever offer Keishin was making. Then he smiled. “I can share it with you, Ukai-kun. If–I mean–if that’s what–“ he stuttered.

“Oh, uh, yeah, yes,” Keishin laughed at his own awkwardness. _What the hell was he getting nervous about?_ He didn’t need to be _this_ weird with Takeda, for fuck’s sake. “C’mon, it’s only a ten minute walk to my place.”

Takeda smiled that sunflower smile of his and followed him home.

* * *

Okay, Keishin had fucked up.

He seriously fucked up.

What crazy-ass idea was this, inviting Takeda into his home? Was he _trying_ to embarrass himself? Was he looking to cause himself more pain?

Takeda was as polite as ever upon entry, taking his sneakers off and lining them up by the door. He hung up his jacket on a hook and set his bag down in a corner.

“Just–er–just have a seat, sensei,” Ukai muttered, gathering up drink cans and plates in his arms before heading to the kitchen in a hasty waddle. He dashed around his apartment and attempted to tidy up. He had to pretend he didn’t live like a fucking slob. Keishin shoved the previous evening’s takeout wrappers into the trash and dumped his dirty dishes in an already-full sink of cold soapy water.

He threw open the fridge to find the sake. Shit, he needed to warm it up. He leaned over the kitchen counter. Takeda was perched on his tiny sofa, back to Keishin, head turning around the room, taking it all in.

“Uh, it’s not much,” Keishin said, digging around in a cupboard for a small pot to put the sake bottle in.

“You have a lovely home, Ukai-kun,” Takeda said, still looking over the art prints above Keishin’s shitty TV.

_Right, sure._

Keishin got the water warmed up before placing the sake in it carefully. He peeled open the lid to give it some air, then went digging for those dinky little sake cups his mom had gifted him, like, ten years ago.

“Aha!” he hissed, and pulled the cardboard box free. Shit, he hadn’t even opened the damn set, opting for mugs and glasses every time his friends came over. Takeda deserved something a little nicer. Keishin wasn’t a _complete_ disaster!

Once the sake was warm, he switched off the stove and carried the bottle out into the tiny living room.

“Here we go,” he said, setting two cups and the bottle down onto the low table.

“Ohhh,” Takeda leaned in to read the label. “That looks like a fancy brand.”

“I have no idea,” Keishin laughed and flopped onto the seat beside Takeda. “I don’t know shit about booze, really.”

Takeda grinned, “Who does? Alcohol is a mystery.”

“Says the chemistry teacher,” Keishin snorted. He poured out a portion of the warm liquid for each of them.

“To winning,” Takeda smiled, his eyes closing.

“To whooping Seijoh’s asses,” Keishin said, then threw back his drink. It burned deliciously down his throat, just like good sake could. “Woo!” he grinned and sat up straighter. “Can’t believe we did it!”

“It was such a good game too,” Takeda said, settling further into the cushion. He looked so much more comfortable than Keishin, who struggled every day of his life to fit on his stupidly small furniture. Takeda seemed perfectly situated. “That serve of Yamaguchi’s, followed up with a spike from Tsukishima?” his eyes went round.

“I know!” Keishin hissed, “who knew, huh?”

“And Daichi receiving Oikawa’s serves!”

“And Tanaka deflecting that crazy kid’s spikes!”

“Oooh!” Takeda bunched up tight with excitement. “What a team!”

Keishin laughed, head thrown back. “Oh, yes. What a team.”

“The training went well and they got so much better,” Takeda said. “All because of your excellent insight.”

“ _Blech_ ,” Keishin waved him off. “It’s not about me.”

Takeda made a face, “But–“

“No, no, sensei, I don’t need the praise, really. I know you want to tell me these things, but it’s okay. I’m good just training those brats.”

Takeda watched him. Keishin pretended to need more sake, so he leaned forward to pour some. They sat there in silence, sipping at their drinks.

Keishin was an idiot to bring Takeda here. It was like they were _friends_ , or companions. Was this going to somehow force Takeda’s hand, to invite Keishin over to his _house_? Was Takeda proper that way? What the hell was happening here? He was spiralling.

“Ukai-kun.”

Keishin gulped back his last sip of sake, almost choking on the warm droplets stuck at the back of his tongue. He looked over at Takeda. The man was watching him with serious eyes. _Oh dear._

“Are we ever going to talk about you kissing me?”

Keishin’s mouth dropped open and he could feel his eyes bugging out. “What?”

“The kiss,” Takeda sipped his sake, “in Tokyo. I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to talk about it, considering you hadn’t brought it up. But I was curious.”

Keishin blinked and his heart thumped in his chest. _Crap._ Here, once again, was evidence of his own misdemeanours coming back to bite him in the ass.

“You… you remember?” he said weakly.

Takeda nodded.

“Oh,” Keishin whispered. _Fuck._ That means he’d just gone silent on Takeda, had left the guy hanging with no explanation, like the chickenshit he was.

“I’m sorry,” he said, putting his cup down, “I didn’t–I wasn’t sure how to … how to talk about it. Even if I _should_ talk about it.”

Takeda didn’t speak.

Keishin sat back and tilted his head over the back of the sofa, closing his eyes. “I’m such a piece of shit,” he murmured.

“Why?” Takeda said.

“Because I shouldn’t have put you in a situation like this. I shouldn’t have taken advantage, shouldn’t have pretended it never happened. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, please don’t be,” Takeda said.

Keishin opened his eyes and blinked slowly. He sat upright and twisted his body to face Takeda, one knee sliding onto the cushion. “Say what now?”

“Don’t be sorry,” Takeda said. “I didn’t mind.”

Keishin blinked again, confused and lost. “I–what?”

Takeda smiled, “I’ll admit it certainly surprised me. And I wondered what made you do it.”

“I, uh, I–“ Keishin didn’t have this part of the conversation planned out because he hadn’t imagined it ever happening, least of going in this direction. _Pull it together, idiot!_ “I shouldn’t be kissing a colleague, sensei, no matter how much I want to.”

Takeda watched him. Then he smiled wide. “You wanted to kiss me?”

Keishin could feel his blood rushing up his neck and behind his ears. How was this guy so fuckin’… _okay with this?_

“Uh… yeah…” Keishin’s voice creaked. This was surreal. He was stuck in a timeless melting painting where nothing made sense and elephants had toothpicks for legs.

“I thought you might be interested in men, but I wasn’t certain,” Takeda said, his eyebrows furrowing the same way they did when he was giving pep talks. “There was that time in the izakaya, which wasn’t telling of much really. When that man, friend, stopped to talk to you. I guess you knew each other? And he touched your face so intimately.” Takeda paused, “And then I was pretty sure after your friends told me about your dating life.”

“Wait, what?” Keishin ribbeted like a frog, “my friends _what?”_

“Shimada-san and Yuusuke-san were telling me about some of your previous _entanglements_ , they called them,” Takeda laughed like this was just the most _pleasant_ thing in the world to talk about.

“When–“

“Oh, you went to the restroom at the izakaya. They told me you were consistently single and terrible at dating and that you were a serious catch, and that if I was careful, I’d be ‘good to go ahead with you.’” The air quotes weren’t helping.

Keishin was going to have to move to the mountains and become a lonesome forest hermit because he was going to _murder his friends_ and that would bring shame upon his mother, and he couldn’t do that to her.

“I wasn’t sure why they kept telling me such things,” Takeda went on blithely, waving a hand in the air. “But I started to wonder after Yuusuke-san said you had “too many” exes of “all kinds”. He wasn’t very subtle.”

Actually, Keishin would have to move _abroad,_ perhaps Brazil, because he was going to burn all of Japan to the ground to cover his embarrassment.“I–“ he tried to speak, but failed. “I’m not–“

“Bisexual is your preferred term, yes?” Takeda smiled sweetly. It was fucking confusing, looking into such a benign, friendly face while at the same time being accosted but such horrifying words.

“Yes?” Keishin gritted his teeth.

“I never considered myself gay, I don’t think,” Takeda tapped his lower lip and looked skyward as if pondering his own sexuality was new to him, “for most of my life anyway, but then I hadn’t met you.”

Keishin blinked.

“I realize bisexuality is more of a spectrum sort of thing,” Takeda went on. “It’s broader than just a sex, a gender. It’s individualistic to some and broader for others. I think that’s a smart way to see sexuality, gender, and attraction. I’m still figuring that out myself.”

Keishin opened his mouth, at a loss, then closed it again.

Takeda looked at him. He sipped the last of his sake. “I didn’t really consider these things until I met you. Not in any real way, I mean.”

“I–“ Keishin’s shoulders dropped. “What’s happening?”

“Oh!” Takeda laughed, “I’m sorry. I derailed the conversation. I asked why you kissed me in Tokyo!”

_Ah, fuck._

Keishin rubbed his hands over his face and growled into his palms, wishing he could wipe his brain clean. “I kissed you–“ he exhaled loudly, then uncovered his face. “–because I think you’re cute, _okay?_ Because you’re nice, and crazy intelligent. And you’re great with the kids, and you like making them happy. And _I don’t know_. I just wanted to.” He threw up his hands. _There._

Takeda watched him, eyes skimming over his features. He smiled, “Oh. Good.”

“Good?” Keishin was going to jump off a cliff before this ever made any sense.

“Because I think I like you too, Ukai-kun.”

And there it was, the one thing Keishin could never have predicted. “What?” he blinked and leaned forward. “Come again?”

“I like you,” Takeda said. His cheeks were slightly pink in the dim light from the front door. “I think you’re very smart and funny, and everyone loves you, you know. You _are_ also very handsome, don’t argue with me about it. Universally good-looking, I think. And tall. I think I like tall. See, I’m learning a lot about myself.”

“Eh?”

“And you’re nice.”

“Fuck,” Keishin felt like maybe he had too much to drink and was hallucinating. He swivelled his eyes round to the table and stared at the evil bottle.“What the hell is in this sake?”

“I’ve been told I’m too forward about these things,” Takeda looked worried for a moment. “My last girlfriend said so.”

“Takeda-san,” Keishin said, “what the hell?”

“You kissed me,” Takeda shrugged. His cheeks were getting redder. Maybe _now_ he felt a little self-conscious? About time, really.

A little of his own strength came back into Keishin’s bones, “I can’t believe you’re the go-getter in this,” he laughed. “Of course you are. Why wouldn’t you be? Nekomata-sensei was right.”

Takeda made a face, “If I’m being pushy, I’m–“

“No, please,” Keishin deflated back into the sofa. He let his feet flop onto the floor, his long legs splayed outwards. He tilted his head back to Takeda and winked, “Keep pushing, sensei. I kinda like it.”

Takeda blushed really red, all in a flush, all the way up to his ears. “All right. Well–um–I’m glad we cleared the air.”

They looked at one another.

“So what do we do now?” Keishin asked.

Takeda looked as confused as he felt. “I have no idea.”

Keishin watched the other man. _Was this real?_

Takeda put his cup down and fidgeted for a moment. It looked like he was steeling himself for something. Keishin watched him silently, intrigued.

Takeda turned to face him. “I would like to return the kiss.”

“Return it?” Keishin blinked. “You wanna give it back?” _This isn’t a service return counter._

“No, I mean, repay you. I mean, give my fair share,” Takeda seemed flustered. “I’m making this sound transactional, aren’t I?”

“A little,” Keishin smirked. “But it’s cute, sensei.”

Takeda shifted along the cushions, getting closer to Keishin. “May I?”

By god, he was cute with those wide eyes and dorky glasses and round cheeks. What was Keishin going to do? _Deny him the right?_

“Yeah,” Keishin said softly. “Go for it.”

Takeda leaned across Keishin to press his hand to the armrest. He pushed himself up a little to reach, and kissed Keishin softly, his pink lips soft and cool against Keishin’s.

There was a zip of a spark, like a static shock,and Keishin definitely felt his breath catch. Takeda pulled back a little. He’d tasted like the sake, except it had cooled, iced a little on their breath.

Keishin licked his lips, their eyes meeting again. What a situation to be caught up in. He should be considering his next move wisely. He couldn’t just react like he always did, couldn’t be in free-fall forever. It wasn’t what coherent, fully aware, tax-paying adults did.

_But then again._

Keishin sat up and leaned across Takeda, pressed him down against the opposite armrest, and all in a rush, kissed him for real this time.


	8. 8

There’s always something so deeply gratifying when you get to kiss someone you’ve always wanted to, and it’s especially thrilling when they respond in kind because– _holy shit_ –they want to kiss you too.

Keishin’s had that happen only a handful of times, where the stars aligned and he got to smush faces with someone he genuinely liked. Miyami-kun in high school, she was one. She was the first really pretty girl who made his heart go all wibbly-wobbly when she walked by, and the moment she’d leaned in and kissed him after a party, behind Yuusuke’s parents’ garage, Keishin thought he’d seen god.

That was the first time.

This time… it was different.

Takeda was beneath him and Keishin was snugging his hand under the other man’s waist, pulling him flat to the stupidly cramped sofa. He didn’t want Takeda’s neck to get bent out of shape against the arm of the chair, but he also wasn’t willing to stop kissing him just yet.

“Mm, Ukai-kun,” Takeda moaned against his lips and _wow_ he sounded soft and sweet and delicious.

Keishin kissed his pink lips, pushing with his tongue, seeking a little more. Takeda gave a tiny gasp and opened for him. Keishin groaned and tilted his head to kiss Takeda with all he had. He wasn’t being forceful, but he still wanted _in._

Takeda’s hands found their way into Keishin's hair and got tangled up in his hair bands. They really did go well together. Keishin could feel the warmth coming off Takeda, could feel his mass, his bones, his body sinking into the cushions like they belonged there. Keishin wanted to _feel_ him.

“Oof,” he grunted when his knee slipped off the sofa cushion, hitting the floor not far below. “ _Ow._ Shit.”

Takeda jolted upright, smacking his face against Keishin’s. “Oh!” they both cried out.

“Damn it,” Keishin tried to sit up, but was all legs and elbows over the shorter man. He gave up trying to slot himself onto the stupid sofa and instead moved to the floor where he could kneel properly and rub at his throbbing cheekbone.

“Sorry,” Takeda winced, rubbing at his own face.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Keishin huffed. He opened one eye and found Takeda blushing beet red, watching him with curious eyes. “Really.”

Takeda smiled and it was… well, it made Keishin feel a little light-headed. “So what now?” Takeda murmured.

“Uh,” Keishin sat back on his knees. “I don’t know. Was this weird? Did I weird you out?”

Takeda considered, “No. I don’t think so?”

Keishin chewed his lip. “We work together, sensei,” Keishin sighed. “Aren’t there, like, rules against that stuff?”

“Hm,” Takeda tapped his index finger against his lips. “I don’t think so. You’re not a student and neither of us reports to the other.”

Keishin wasn’t sure why he was searching for possible reasons to make Takeda run away, but it was nice to hear the sensei discount his concerns almost immediately, because it was opening the door wider, giving him entry into this _thing_ they had started.

“I can see it _is_ concerning you, though,” Takeda smiled. “How about this: I will look into it, okay? I’ll see if there are ethical ramifications to…um, this scenario. And possible, er, future ones.”

Keishin didn’t know what to say to that. _Thanks for checking the legality of us making out, and confirming whether or not we’d be in violation of any rules around the possibility of us boning at some point?_ Because now that Keishin had kissed Takeda, and Takeda had reciprocated in kind, there was no way he wasn’t going to push for more– more contact, more skin, more everything.

“It–“ Keishin tugged his hair bands free and ran a hand over his hair. “–I hope I wasn’t too pushy.”

Takeda sat up and turned so his feet could touch the floor. “Not at all,” he grinned. “I wasn’t sure what to expect, coming over tonight. It’s not bad at all.”

Keishin snapped a hair band between his fingers. This guy… he’d need to be careful around someone so beguiling and apparently underhandedly self-aware. “You’re not as sweet as you look, are you, sensei?” Keishin said, mouth twisting up at the side.

Takeda grinned, “I’m the same as everyone else, Ukai-kun.” Human urges and all of that, Keishin assumed.

“You can call me Keishin, sensei,” _our tongues have touched, for fuck’s sake,_ “let’s not kid ourselves here.”

“Then you can call me Takeda.”

 _Hm. Maybe._ It felt like a weird double standard to excuse himself of intimate familiarity while inviting it from Takeda. _Maybe not in front of the kids._ Keishin couldn’t handle the children noticing he had any kind of affection for their sensei. He would explode at the thought. The faces of his friends flashed before him. Hm. He’d have to be careful what he said around them too. They were always unbearably smug whenever they proved Keishin wrong. His ego was fragile, okay? He’d need to drag this little secret out a bit longer so as to protect himself from their eventual ribbing.

* * *

Nothing remotely sexy happened for the rest of the evening, which was a bummer. Takeda stayed to talk some more about the game and their plans for the next day because– _shit_ –they still had to play Shiratorizawa!

God, Keishin had the _worst_ timing!

He walked Takeda back to the school and waved him off before heading home to metaphorically scream into his pillow.

Now that it was just him and the walls of his apartment, he could feel the freakout bubbling to the top of his consciousness.

“Ahhh,” he exhaled deeply, barefoot in his kitchen. He’d kissed Takeda! They’d bumped lips and made out on his sofa. It was… it was exhilarating! When was the last time he’d done this very same thing and not felt like it was a waste of time and energy?

He wished he hadn’t been so weird and awkward afterwards. He just hadn’t been sure about where this was headed. Would Takeda want to sit closer, or lean into him, or any other cozy sweet couple shit?

He scraped both hands through his hair and clutched at it. “Fuck!” he hissed. They _were_ a couple? Weren’t a couple? Maybe they were heading down the path towards eventual fucking? Was that allowed? Was he _allowed_ to be this excited?

Or was this just another awkward thing they’d have to brush under the rug of burnt-out dreams? Would it figure itself out? Would it fade? Was Takeda maybe just testing the waters? Was Keishin just messing around? Could they be fuck-buddies? Was Keishin okay with that?

“Jesus Christ, calm down,” he snapped to himself. “You haven’t even touched dicks yet; Enough with the fatalistic spiralling.”

His mother always said he was prone to working out all the worst outcomes before considering the best ones. He needed to take a breather.

He wandered around, trying to get himself at least a little prepared for the morning. He’d need to be on top of his game. He couldn’t be thinking about this stuff _now._ He needed to shower. And he needed to pack and maybe prep some notes for the game. He needed to book the restaurant again, in case they win and doubly so if they lose. Man, he was going to spend so much cash on these kids this month. _Ah, well._

“Maybe I’m overthinking this,” Keishin uttered into the quiet of his home. In the darkness and solitude that comes only in the wee hours, he felt a little reassured. Maybe he was overreacting about Takeda and the kissing and the emotional confession crap? But then what if he wasn’t being honest with what was very plainly laid out in front of him? After all, Takeda wasn’t one for lying, was he?Surely he could manage whatever had happened between him and Takeda like an intelligent person with the sound logic and reasoning knocking around inside his head?

Maybe he was overthinking, but maybe he _wasn’t._

Keishin halted in the doorway to his bedroom, “Maybe… he likes me?” he said into the stillness of his apartment.

* * *

The next day came at them like a bullet train. There was no time to think about anything that wasn’t Shiratorizawa and Ushijima and his frankly terrifying gameplay. It felt suffocating, getting their asses handed to them by him. He was almost unstoppable. Keishin felt like he was on the court with his players, trying to push against the wall of Ushijima.

They pushed harder and harder, tried to stand their ground.

At moments, it seemed almost futile, like they should accept their role in falling to one of the greatest teams in Miyagi ever, but Keishin hated giving up. He was going to dive in head-first alongside his team and fucking _fight._

When Shiratorizawa took the first set, he had to calm the team down.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he said as Shimizu handed out towels and water. “We expected this.”

“That left hand hook,” Tanaka cried through his towel. “I can’t even see it coming, coach!”

“I have to stop at least one of those spikes,” Nishinoya grumbled.

Keishin noticed how riled up Kageyama was looking; Not good.

“He’s a beast, all right,” Keishin sighed and put his hands on his hips, “but we’re persistent. We crows can wait them out. We’ve got the stamina and we’ve been beaten before. Remember, teams that win all the time can forget that the possibility of losing is out there. We know what’s what. We’ve been lower. We can only fly higher from here.”

“Ugh,” Asahi groaned. Keishin thought back on their time at the Tokyo training camp. They could barely stand their ground there and now look at them! Facing Miyagi’s best team all before the Spring Nationals!

“We need to win,” Keishin said firmly, making eye contact with each of his team members. “Else what’s Nekoma gonna say when we don’t meet them at the Spring Nationals, huh?”

He could see each of them thinking about the smug looks on the Nekoma players’ faces. Each and every one of these kids wanted to fulfill Nekomata’s dream of meeting one another in the nationals.

“Kuroo will be unbearable,” Sawamura sighed.

“Yaku-san is waiting for us,” Nishinoya stared up at the ceiling as if he were talking straight to God.

“You beat Aoba Johsai, remember?” Takeda said, coming up to stand beside Keishin. “And we thought that was almost too tough a challenge.”

“Eh?” Hinata cried out, “Sensei! You told us we were always going to beat them!”

“Yeah,” Tanaka wailed, “are you saying there wasn’t any hope even then?”

Takeda laughed, “I always believed in you; Always. Remember, a challenge is never an assumed loss. It’s just a challenge. Treat your opponents as a wall to scale, not an enclosure.”

“We’re not zoo animals,” Tsukishima muttered.

“Like soldiers getting fit and strong!” Hinata cried, all fired up.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes and chugged his water.

“Sensei’s right,” Keishin said. “You’re just kids playing a game. It’s not high stakes, but it feels like it. You’ve all got this. Just keep pressing them, keep watching. Pay attention to any weak spots.”

“Their blockers are intense, though,” Kageyama murmured.

“They’re good,” Keishin nodded, “but they’re kids too. Whatever cracks they’re seeing in us, we should be able to find in them too. Look for imbalances. Look for players being inconsistent.”

“You know Ushijima’s only spiking and barely receiving,” Takeda added, “so take that into account.”

“That’s right,” Keishin smacked his fist into his other hand. “Play _to_ him. Force his hand, make him take part. They’re all trying to save him so he can spike. The players pass to him exclusively. Make them adjust. Force them to pay attention to you and not to him.”

“Uss,” the team said in unison. The whistle bleeped.

“Good luck,” Takeda said.

* * *

“They’re getting so tired and it’s only the second set,” Takeda murmured from beside Keishin.

“I know,” Keishin was bent forward in his seat, rubbing his closed fists against his lips. “And it’s five sets this time. Remind me to rotate the setters.”

“Okay,” Takeda said, eyes on the ball.

Tsukishima was looking harangued by the constant barrage of spikes from Ushijima. He needed to be careful. Karasuno needed their tallest player for defense.

Kageyama was looking bent out of shape too. Hm.

“Damnit,” Keishin hissed as Shiratorizawa blocked yet another hit from Asahi.

“Ushijima is a formidable blocker too,” Takeda sighed. “And that redhead, Tendou, he moves way too fast.”

“Hm,” Keishin hummed. “He’s good at read blocking. But so is Tsukishima. Let’s hope it pays off.”

The ball flew back and forth and Karasuno clung to their points for dear life. Tsukishima was directing the blockers now, which gave Keishin hope. If Tsukishima had seen what Keishin had, then maybe they had a chance.

“Now, jump!” Keishin leapt to his feet as only two blockers managed to make it to the left side. Tsukishima and Tanaka maybe weren’t enough. Nishinoya was in position so if it got through, at least–

“Ohhh!” Takeda jumped to his feet as the ball that should have skated between the blockers’ hands, was halted by Tsukishima. “ _Ohhhh!_ ”

“Yes!” Keishin yelled, punching the air. Tsukishima was adapting fast! His hand had just reached out to the side, luring Ushijima into a hotspot for spiking.

Tsukishima dropped back onto his feet, bent over and yelled as loud as he could, vibrating with the adrenaline that came off such a supremely simple but smart block.

Keishin gasped, shocked by Tsukishima’s show of fervour, and joined in the yelling.

“Ahhh, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi wailed.

The whole of Karasuno was stunned to see their usually stoic and unbothered middle blocker bend over and yell at the top of his lungs. Wow!

“I can’t believe it!” Takeda yelped. “Tsukishima!”

Keishin turned to him and they high-fived, “Success, sensei!”

“Success!” Takeda grinned.

There was such pleasure in seeing a kid soak up the joy of playing rather than ever seeing them win. Tsukishima was evolving.

“Second set!” Takeda cried, clapping wildly.

“Phew!” Keishin leaned back and exhaled sharply, “A little closer.”

* * *

“Damnit, Hinata,” Keishin covered his eyes in shame. “Watch the net!”

“I think Kageyama’s letting him know,” Takeda chuckled nervously. Kageyama was indeed reaming the kid out for not paying attention to his speed and his jumping accuracy.

“What are you doing? Trying to stop the ball with _your face?_ ” Kageyama barked, tugging at the neck of Hinata’s shirt.

“I didn’t mean to hit the net!” Hinata wailed, flopping from side-to-side.

Sawamura separated them.

“Pay attention,” Keishin sighed.

He watched the plays and found himself constantly drawn to Hinata and Kageyama. Their fast attack wasn’t cutting it and he wasn’t sure why.

“We need to change it up,” Keishin muttered.

“How?” Takeda said, “Shiratorizawa’s stopping all the plays.”

“Hn,” Keishin pondered. “Hinata’s making such long run-ups. He’s going to wear himself out.”

“And his timing’s off because he isn’t close to the net,” Takeda said.

Keishin sat up and tapped his hands against this thighs as a thought came to him.

“Oi!” he barked, and waved his four fingers in the air, “Nishinoya.”

The libero, who was waiting for his next re-entry, came jogging over. “Coach?”

“When you get on court, yell Hinata to stop wasting his run-ups.”

“Eh?” Nishinoya frowned. “He needs them to jump high enough though, no?”

“Yeah,” Keishin closed his eyes and grinned, “but he doesn’t need to run _at_ the net to get the same effect.”

“Ohhh…” Takeda murmured, “you want him to run from another position?”

“Yeah,” Keishin nodded and looked over at Takeda. _Smart guy_. “Nishinoya, tell Hinata to make his run-ups _along_ the net. Go side-to-side. That way he can still jump high enough, but he’ll also be in position for blocking.”

“Got it,” Nishinoya nodded and ran back to his position.

“That’s going to wear him out,” Takeda said.

“He’s going to wear himself out anyway,” Keishin chuckled. “Might as well put it to good use.”

Keishin curled his hands around his mouth, “Oi, Tanaka!” The kid in question glanced up. “Support Hinata! He needs a side wall.”

“Okay!” Tanaka threw a thumbs-up.

“Side wall?” Takeda asked.

“Ah, yeah,” Keishin leaned in to talk a little softer. “Last time Hinata almost took out Kageyama’s hip when he crashed into him sideways, I figured we should have a positioning strategy should we need him to do it anyway.”

“Oh?” Takeda blinked at him.

“Yeah,” Keishin grinned, “if the kid needs to fly into someone, it might as well be Tanaka, who’s built for it. So Tanaka at least knows it’s coming this time.”

“Ah, I see,” Takeda nodded. “You plan very far ahead, Ukai-kun.”

Keishin tried not to preen under the compliment. “Ah, well, _heh._ ” He sat up straight, “It’s what I’m here for.”

* * *

The plays were working better now that the perfect decoy was in use. Keishin was pleased to see the Shiratorizawa blockers getting led astray by Hinata. The kid could jump and spike and run and jump _again_ within seconds. It really was ingenious. But they did have to swap Hinata out for Yamaguchi to serve.

“Sit here,” Keishin patted the bench between himself and Shimizu. “It’s about stamina, you need to rest.” Hinata made a face but did as he was told.

Yamaguchi made a perfect serve which fed into the next act of the play where the ball volleyed back and forth and forced Ushijima to have to pass and not spike.

“Time delay, come on,” Keishin huffed, leaning forward in his seat as the ball went up. Tsukishima was there. He waited a hair of a second, then _jumped_. The kid was so tall it gave him room to still reach for the hit even after the offense was dropping back.

“Yes!” Keishin yelled as Tsukishima slammed the ball down over the net. “That’s how it’s done, Tsukishima!”

Hinata cried out, shocked that Tsukishima had any plays up his sleeve that weren’t just blocks. “When did Tsukishima learn anything new?”

“Who knows,” Shimizu murmured.

“Amazing,” Takeda clapped.

* * *

The rest of the fourth set was intense. Keishin shaved a few years off his life by just watching. They did it, though, they got the fourth set which meant they were moving onto the fifth and final set.

“I’m going to die,” Takeda said as the team gathered.

“You can’t, sensei,” Keishin said. “I need the moral support.”

Takeda pushed his glasses up his nose and flipped his tablet from one arm to the next. He was still, annoyingly, very cute when flustered.

Keishin didn’t have time to think about how flirting in public wasn’t a good idea. He could pick apart his life choices later.

“Kageyama, how are you doing?” Keishin asked his prized setter.

“I’m fine,” Kageyama said between gasps for air. He was drenched in sweat. He didn’t _look_ fine.

“Hm,” Keishin sighed, “I’m starting with Sugawara anyway.” Kageyama sucked hard on his juice box. _Calm down, kid. You’ll get your turn._

“Yes, coach!” Sugawara piped up. He held his clasped fists up to his face as if in prayer. “Oh, I’m excited, but nervous and my hands… they always get so cold at times like this.”

“Here,” Shimizu stepped up to grab his hands in hers. “My hands are warm.”

What unfolded before them was like a tragic comedy of errors as Sugawara all but fell apart at Shimizu’s hands around his. The third years all went a little feral, judging by the gleam in their eyes.

“What the hell is happening?” Keishin murmured to Takeda, as Sawamura and Asahi wrestled Sugawara’s fists apart as if they were able to soak up whatever Shimizu had done to them.

“Ah, I think Shimizu-san has broken Sugawara’s stress barrier,” Takeda said.

“With love?” Keishin crooked a brow at that.

“I don’t think so,” Takeda laughed. “I think teenage boys are just simple enough to find comfort in her touch.”

“Oh, right,” Keishin blinked. _Whatever_. “Idiots.”

* * *

Sugawara was doing well in place of Kageyama, but they didn’t have as much time to win this set. Fifteen points could go by fast.

The blockers diverted another spike from Ushijima.

“Oh, that was close!” Takeda cried.

“Coach,” Kageyama said from beside him. He pointed, “Tsukishima.”

Keishin looked over at the blond blocker at the net and saw him clutching his hand. “Shit, is he hurt? _Sensei_.”

Takeda nodded and got up to signal a time-out. Keishin ran onto the court, Shimizu not far behind.

“Let me see,” he said, pushing the boys aside to get a better look. Tsukishima’s face was marred with pain. He held out his hand.

“Damn,” Keishin looked it over carefully. _Might be dislocated_ , he thought. “This was from Ushijima’s hit?”

Tsukishima nodded. There was a trickle of blood working its way down his palm. Shimizu stepped in with a towel. “Take him to the infirmary,” Keishin said. “Tsukishima, get that finger set. If it’s not broken, doesn’t hurt, and it’s stable, we’ll see how you feel when you get back.”

“I can still play,” Tsukishima grunted.

“ _Infirmary,_ ” Takeda said, appearing out of nowhere. “No one plays injured. End of story. Shimizu-san, can you please take him?”

“Yes, sensei,” Shimizu nodded and took Tsukishima by the elbow.

“Damn it,” Keishin wiped at his brow. “Narita! You’re up!”

Keishin didn’t miss the way Kageyama jolted, obviously expecting _he’d_ be the one called in to replace Tsukishima.

 _Just wait, kid_ , Keishin thought, _give it a second._

* * *

With Tsukishima and Kageyama back in the game and the score stuck at deuce, Keishin thought maybe here’s where his heart would give out.

Of course it would be Hinata who leapt for the ball. It’s Hinata who spiked it. Shiratorizawa was there to dig it and the ball went flying…

Takeda was on his feet, gasping.

Keishin wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or not, but it’s unbelievable. The ball flew backward, out of bounds after one touch.

The whistle blew.

“Aaaaaughhh!” Keishin yelled, jumping to his feet.

The whole of Karasuno erupted into screams and wailing. Tanaka and the rest of the third years piled onto Hinata, Tsukishima and Kageyama, all of whom were wavering on their feet.

Hinata’s legs _did_ end up giving out and he fell to the floor in a pile of bodies.

Keishin didn’t know what to say, think or do. He felt at once elated, exhausted and truly shocked.

He turned to Takeda, who was wide-eyed and just _beaming_. “We did it,” Keishin hissed, voice all caught up in his throat. “ _Did_ we do it? Sensei, did we do it? Am I going nuts?”

Takeda took a slow breath, “We did. We _did it!”_ and he held both palms up for Keishin to high-five. Keishin smacked them so hard, they smarted. “Unbelievable!”

“Amazing,” Shimizu said and Keishin had to look up because she didn’t sound good at all.

“Eh, Shimizu-san!” Keishin cried out, seeing tears on her cheeks. “D-don’t cry! This is good! We won!”

“I know,” she blubbered, “I _know!”_

“It’s fine, it’s fine, “ Takeda dug around for a minute, unzipping the med supplies bag to search. “Why don’t we have any tissues! _Tissues!_ ”

“It’s okay, sensei,” Shimizu wiped at her face. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

Keishin covered his eyes and grinned. _Holy shit._ _They were going to nationals. They’d fuckin’ done it. What the hell? What was his gramps going to say?_

Keishin pulled his hand away from his face. “Coach!” was all he heard before Karasuno’s players barrelled into him, effectively knocking him off his feet.

* * *

The award ceremony was a blur but Keishin _did_ remember welling up like a sap when Sawamura and Sugawara stepped forward as captain and vice-captain, bowing then taking the Karasuno winning certificate and trophy on behalf of the team. The announcer asked the audience to give both teams a rousing round of applause for a game well played. Keishin could feel the joy emanating from the crowd, congratulating _his team_ for winning. Yes, they’d done it.

* * *

“Oh, jeez,” Keishin sighed. He looked around the table in the izakaya. The whole passel of teenage boys was falling asleep in their chairs. “Maybe food in public wasn’t my smartest move,” he muttered, watching as Hinata face-planted into his bowl of rice.

“I’m so proud!” Takeda wailed.

“Oh dear,” Keishin laughed. “sensei, not again. You haven’t even been drinking.”

“I can’t help it!” Takeda took off his glasses and wiped at his eyes. “These baby birds of ours! They’re taking flight! I couldn’t be more proud, Ukai-kun. Our baby birds…” He sobbed a little into his elbow, which softened Keishin’s already weak heart a little further.

“It’s okay,” he rubbed at Takeda’s back gently.

The third-years made sure everyone got their fill. Sugawara in particular seemed way more jazzed than the rest of them. It was his motherly nature, Keishin guessed. Some people really thrived on looking after others.

“They’re good kids,” Keishin muttered so only Takeda could hear him.

“So good,” Takeda sniffled and put his glasses back. Keishin rubbed at his back some more.

* * *

It wasn’t until later that night, after Keishin had showered and thrown himself down for a long, well-deserved nap that he remembered what had gone down with Takeda only one day before.

“Jeez,” he rolled onto his back. The sun had already set and he still needed to unpack all his shit. He had a vague memory of stumbling home, exhausted, dropping his crap at the door and just bee-lining it to his bathroom.

He hadn’t even thought to say a proper good-bye to Takeda. They’d just gotten the kids to school, waved them away, and… split off.

“Damnit,” Keishin rolled over once again to get to the other side of his bed. Where the fuck was his phone?

It was nowhere to be seen. He grumbled and grouched as he got to his feet. At least he was in a clean t-shirt and boxers. He planned on not leaving his bed for the next day if he could manage it. He padded into his living room and flicked on the light.

He checked the kitchen counter, then went back to the front door. “Oh hell,” he hadn’t even _locked_ it. He turned the lock and berated himself for his sleep-dumb brain doing whatever the hell it wanted. He had to dig around in his bag for a bit before remembering his phone was probably in his track pants.

He wandered into the bathroom, a wide yawn making his jaw click. _Oof_ , he was going to need another snack before getting back into bed. He poked around his dropped clothing on the bathroom floor.

“Aha!” His phone was dead. “Fuck.”

He went back to the bedroom to plug it in. While it charged, he could get some food going. Ramen would do. He tore open the extra spicy-hot option and filled the cup with water before sliding it into the microwave.He didn’t bother with extra lights. The warm glow from the microwave was enough for him to locate chopsticks and pour himself a much-needed glass of water.

“Can’t believe they did it,” he said to his empty home. “Fuckin’ won against Shiratorizawa?” He shook his head in amazement.

When the microwave dinged, he grabbed his food and took it back to the bedroom. He placed the steaming bowl on the bedside table and sat down on the bed. Nothing like your own familiar mattress to make you feel settled.

Keishin exhaled, feeling the stress of the past few weeks leech out of him. They had a few more months of winter to train before the Spring Nationals. Good. They had time to plan.

He grabbed his phone and flicked it on. A barrage of bleeps indicated he had some unread messages.

He scrolled through the ones from friends and family, amused by all the exclamation points and emojis people used.

_Aha._

He tapped on the message he’d been hoping to find all along.

> Takeda-sensei
> 
> Excellent job today, Coach Ukai. You should be proud and very pleased with the great work done with the team.  
>  o( ❛ᴗ❛ )o  
> We are very lucky to have you as our coach. I hope you get some good rest. I’ll see you bright as a daisy on Monday afternoon.
> 
> Get ready. We’re going to Nationals! (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b

Keishin could feel the smile creeping across his face. It was making his cheeks ache. _Goddamn this guy._

“You cute bastard,” he muttered and tapped out a quick response. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, sensei.”

> Keishin
> 
> I look forward to it, Takeda-san. ;)))


	9. 9

Keishin had the whole weekend to come down from the high of winning. He gave himself the space to not think about volleyball, or the team.

He did, however, get all caught up in the memory of kissing Takeda. He got a thrill every time he thought about touching those lips again, getting Takeda to make those little sounds again. It was really very distracting. He had to help his dad fix the rear axle on his car on the Sunday and somehow his mind also thought it appropriate to consider what it would be like to make out with Takeda in the backseat of his own crappy Toyota. He made a mental note to clean out his car, in case such an opportunity availed itself to him.

On Monday he woke up feeling like a bundle of frayed nerves with the added bonus of a very insistent boner. His excitement obviously came from imminent proximity to Takeda. He’d be seeing Takeda after school and wasn’t sure how he was expected to behave now that they'd crossed a few more lines. He just wanted to fast forward to the moment where they could just… carry on with what they’d started. Was that too much to ask? He glared down at his boner tenting the bed sheets. "You, I need to get rid of," he grunted.

He spent most of Monday helping his mom stock the shelves at the store. He went through the aisles and fixed up the merchandise, straightening packages, lining up bottles, making it all look a little tidier. He found that organizing shit calmed him down at times like this.

He caught up on the morning news, stacked the latest magazines that had arrived, and helped Mr Takinoue shop for his weekly snacks and toiletries. Keishin knew everyone who came into the store. He was even quite familiar with the kids from the neighbourhood, kids of people he _knew_ , coming in to pick up drinks and snacks before and after school. He was becoming just like Mr Takinoue, wasn’t he? He was becoming a local mainstay, destined to sink deeper into the soil; he was becoming a monument, an emblematic example of his home town. What the fuck, man?

When the high schoolers started to trickle in, he knew it was time to get going.

“Ma!” he yelled, unknotting his apron. “I gotta go!”

“Okay,” she wandered out from the stock room, wiping her hands with a dry towel. “Have fun, Kei-kun.”

“It’s work,” Keishin sighed and hung up his apron behind the counter. “Not fun.”

“Uh-huh,” his mother smiled. “I’m sure it is.”

* * *

Keishin hadn’t been prepared for the dip in his heart rate when he realized Takeda wasn't at volleyball practice. Bummer.

Never mind, he had other things to worry about. He got the team to run laps before going through the daily drills.

“Higher, Ennoshita,” he clapped his hands. “I know you’re tired, but you gotta strengthen those calves.”

“Yes, coach,” Ennoshita panted.

Everyone was in a great mood for once, still riding the high of their win against Shiratorizawa. Keishin had seen the massive new banner hanging from the school building; it had startled him, actually, seeing something that praised his team of rug rats.

Keishin complied with Shimizu’s request to get the team’s measurements down in writing. They’d done so at the beginning of the season, so halfway made some sense.

He watched them all take running jumps at the basketball board, slapping their powdered hands against the plastic backing. He looked over Shimizu’s shoulder as she wrote the numbers down. Holy crap, they’d all improved _so much!_

Kageyama nailed his jump and ended up with the highest number, which was very impressive considering Tsukishima was quite a bit taller. Of course, it was Hinata who was fuming about it.

“But I jumped highest based on improvements alone,” he cried out.

“That’s not the point though,” Kageyama grinned like the devil. “It’s highest jump, not most improved. You win being dumbest, though.”

“Let’s go again!” Hinata cried out angrily. “I’ll beat my last jump and yours too!”

“Oi,” Keishin snapped his fingers. “Stop fighting. Can you do that for five minutes?”

“Oh, you’re all still here!” the doors of the gym slapped open loudly. The kids all turned in surprise.

Keishin looked up, blinking. Takeda was standing in the streaks of sunlight coming through the doors, panting.He looked like he’d run the length of the school campus at full speed.

“Everyone!” Takeda said loudly, “Gather round!”

Keishin cocked a brow at this, but nodded to his team to hurry up and do as they were told. He helped Yachi climb down off the ladder. She was much better in his company these days, which was good.

“You know what this is about?” Keishin asked Shimizu. She shook her head, clearly as intrigued as he was. She and Yachi lined up with the boys.

“I haven’t said hello!” Takeda slapped his forehead with his palm. “Hello team! Winning team! My favourite winning team!” He beamed at them all.

“Hi, sensei!” Nishinoya cried before coming to stand between Sawamura and Ennoshita. Keishin joined them in their semi-circle around their sensei. Takeda wasn’t wearing his usual tracksuit. He was still dressed in his corduroy jacket, shirt and tie combo with the beige slacks. Keishin smirked. _What a nerd._

“What’s going on?” Hinata murmured, looking up at Kageyama as if he had all the answers. Kageyama shrugged dispassionately.

“Afternoon, sensei,” Keishin said, folding his arms and spreading his feet to stand a little straighter.

Takeda grinned at him. _Phew_ , Keishin was really going to have to learn to reel in his blood flow. He couldn’t start blushing in front of the kids just because their sensei was _smiling_ at him. He wasn't some fainting flower.

“I have some really great news,” Takeda said. He looked down at a sheet of paper in his hands. “I was contacted today by the National Youth Volleyball Association.”

The kids all perked up.

“Oh?” Keishin murmured.

“Yes,” Takeda said, looking around until his eyes settled on one player. “Kageyama-kun has been selected, along with a few others, to join the National Youth Training Camp in December!”

Sawamura looked at Sugawara. Both their mouths dropped open. Kageyama looked floored, going by how wide his eyes were.

“What…” Hinata muttered, “I don’t get it?”

“The National Youth Training Camp is for the under-nineteens who have been deemed talented enough for possible national and olympic inclusion in a few years,” Keishin said, grinning. “That’s very impressive,” he turned to look Kageyama in the eye, “very good, Kageyama. Excellent, even.”

“Whoa,” Yamaguchi exhaled loudly. “That’s a big deal!”

“What?” Hinata muttered.

“You mean if you get invited to train there, you’re probably on track to join the national volleyball team and the Olympics?” Nishinoya asked, “That's insane!”

“Not guaranteed,” Takeda laughed, “but yes, I suppose that’s a route that’s made possible.”

“Wow!” Asahi smiled at his junior, “Kageyama, that’s amazing news.”

“Good job,” Sawamura said proudly, like a real dad whose kid just got accepted into the best university in Japan.

Kageyama still looked shocked.

“I’ll need you to come get the full stack of paperwork from me after practice,” Takeda said, pushing his glasses up his nose as he read over the sheet of paper again.

Keishin overheard Sawamura talking about Nishinoya not being included and had to agree that as talented as Nishinoya was, the National Training Camp was probably looking for more mature liberos. Nishinoya was perhaps too much of a goof to be taken seriously just yet, which was really unfortunate. Keishin made a mental note to talk to the kid later.

“What about me?”

Everyone looked at Hinata. Keishin’s face screwed up. _Oh no._ Hinata blinked at Takeda.

“Er,” Takeda hesitated. “Only Kageyama has been invited, Hinata-kun.”

“But–“ Hinata faltered, "I want...".

“Please don’t embarrass yourself,” Tsukishima said drily.

 _Ouch._ That kid had the worst comments sometimes. Takeda flapped a hand as if to dispel the awkward vibes in the room. “Wait, I also have some extra good news!” He waved the sheet of paper in the air. “There’s a new Miyagi volleyball training camp being set up this winter. It’s for first-years only and will focus on trying to train up our own prefectural candidates.”

“Ohh,” everyone looked around.

“Tsukishima,” Takeda grinned at the blond, “you’ve been invited!”

“Huh,” Keishin said, impressed. Well, what do you know, it looked like someone else was seeing greatness in the kid after all. _Good._

“That’s,” Tsukishima scowled and pushed at his glasses, “that’s nice, I suppose, but I’m not inter–“

“Of course he’s going,” Sawamura grinned and threw his arm around Tsukishima’s shoulders. Keishin noticed the tight grip. “Tsukishima isn’t rude or stupid enough to turn down extra training! Are you?” Sawamura turned to look Tsukishima in the eye.

Keishin held back a snort. Sawamura was a very convincing captain, if not by being a great supporter, then by being too nice for others to argue with.

Tsukishima made a face like a wet cat.

“Good, good,” Sawamura smacked him between the shoulder blades. “You’ll both train up and become so much better, right before we head to nationals! Good for you and good for us!”

“Yes!” Takeda clapped.

“But, what about me, sensei?” Hinata said.

Again, the team went quiet, surprised by his words.

“Oh, Hinata,” Keishin covered his face with one hand.

“But–“

“I’m sorry, Hinata-kun,” Takeda said gently. “Only Tsukishima was invited, okay?”

“But I’m a first year!” Hinata wailed. “And I actually _want_ to play! He hates playing!” The kid was getting all red in the face.

“Hinata,” Keishin said, all softness gone from his voice. That brought the kid up sharp. He looked at Keishin with those wide, warm brown eyes of his. “You’re being rude. Don’t rain on your teammates’ parade.”

Hinata frowned and looked down.

“Well,” Takeda wavered for a moment, “Kageyama, Tsukishima, I’ll need to see you after practice so we can go over the papers your parents need to sign.”

“Uss,” the team nodded and slowly dispersed, most of them crowding around their teammates who’d been invited to the camps.

Keishin waited for Takeda to approach before he snagged the sheet of paper out of his hands to pore over it.

“Wow,” he muttered. He looked at Takeda, “It’s for real, huh?”

“Yeah,” Takeda smiled.

“Wow.”

“I got the call during lunch and had to confirm all the details and have them email me the documentation,” Takeda scratched at his hair. “Lucky, huh?”

“I’ll say,” Keishin whistled. He’d bet a million bucks those training camps were full to busting with prime volleyball talent. Keishin wanted to say more but got distracted by look on Kageyama's face across the gym. He frowned. Why the hell did the kid look like his birthday had come early?

Keishin watched as Kageyama said something to Hinata, his grin wide and demonic. The redhead’s face bunched up and he went all pink, anger sweeping across his features in a wave.

“You bastard!” Hinata yelled and leapt at Kageyama. They began scrapping.

“Oh for the love–“ Keishin handed the sheet of paper to Takeda and went over to separate them. If he didn’t, one of them would surely lose an eye this time. Like scraping a barnacle off the side of a boat, he had to physically get between them to pull Hinata off Kageyama. The kid was scratching and wailing like a feral cat.

Kageyama looked very pleased with himself. What was _up_ with the children at this school?

“Are you rubbing it in?” Keishin growled, one hand on Kageyama’s shoulder and the other on Hinata’s collar.

Kageyama shrugged and looked askance. Keishin would take that as a yes. That explained why Hinata looked a little more than annoyed at Kageyama’s invitation. The idiot setter was being an ass about it.

“Don’t,” Keishin said sharply, giving Kageyama a shake. “Don’t be a fuckin’ dick.”

* * *

As it turned out, Takeda was too busy with schoolwork to come to practice, which left Keishin to look after the horde of boys himself for most of the week. It was kind of lonely being the only adult in the room, but the kids at least kept him busy. By Thursday he was worn out again and looking forward to the weekend.

“You get your parents to sign all those papers?” he asked Kageyama at the end of practice.

“Yeah,” Kageyama dropped a pile of volleyballs into the wheelie basket.

“It’s gonna be great, training with all those talented guys,” Keishin said. “And the coaches, they’re the pros who train everyone for the Olympics you know? They’re the best in the business.”

“I guess,” Kageyama said, looking at Keishin. It was a wonder how dispassionate the kid could seem when he wasn’t actually playing volleyball. It’s like all that ever mattered to him was playing, or training to play.

 _Or_ , Keishin thought idly _, if he’s around Hinata and they get to scream and yell at each other._ “You’ll learn lots,” Keishin said. “Make sure not to waste the coaches’ time. These are the guys who you’ll be seeing if you make it to the national team one day. They’re the coaches everybody needs.”

“Hm,” Kageyama seemed to ponder this. Then he looked at Keishin and narrowed his eyes. “You’re a good coach, though. You should work with them.”

“Eh?” Keishin frowned. He caught a ball Ennoshita tossed his way. He dropped it into the basket.

Kageyama shrugged, “You’re a good coach, or whatever.” He turned, clearly done with talking, and wandered nonchalantly back across the court, like he hadn’t just dropped a compliment bomb on Keishin’s head.

 _What is in the water around here?_ Keishin thought madly.

* * *

“There you are.”

Keishin looked up from his phone. He was on his way off campus, heading home for the evening.

“Oh, sensei,” he puffed out a gust of smoke. “The man of mystery himself, come back for a visit.”

Takeda was wearing a thick wool coat and a hat. Keishin was glad he too had invested in a warmer jacket and scarf combo to push back the biting cold. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy this week,” Takeda smiled. “But I’ll be back to practice tomorrow!”

Keishin shrugged and sucked on his cigarette. _No bother_ , his body language said, while his eyes took in Takeda’s bright smile and excited expression. “You’re up to something,” Keishin peered down at him. “What is it?”

Takeda smiled wider and fell into step beside Keishin, heading away from Karasuno. “I went digging for information,” he said. “Ethical rules on working or fraternizing with colleagues. That sort of thing.”

Keishin frowned. What was the guy talking about now?

“So,” Takeda said slowly, “the rules on interpersonal relationships allow for colleagues to–uh– _see_ one another, so long as neither person reports to the other. So if I were your superior, or something, it would be a problem. And if you were a student, of course, that would be worse and a big no-no.”

Keishin kept walking, trying to understand what was happening.

Takeda went on, “Also, seeing as you are technically not even employed by the school, you are just on school grounds as assistant coach, there is even less grounds or reasoning to assume you or I are in some questionable power control issue, or some such thing. The ethical guidelines got very granular at one point, so I think the specifics are there because they’re needed. I bet there have been transgressions in the past that called for their inclusion to the rulebook.”

Keishin stopped walking. He stared at Takeda, who had to pause and turn to look back at him. Keishin’s cigarette dangled from his lips.

“Oh my god,” he uttered, “you actually looked into it.” _Was this for real?_

Takeda tilted his head, “Yes? I said I would. It was a concern for you, no? Exploring any kind of–er–relationship was a worry for you.”

“I’m–“ Keishin’s mouth was dry. “I guess.”

“Unless you no longer–“ Takeda faltered.

“Yes!” Keishin said, “I mean no. I mean whatever gets you to-to–us you and me–I’m cool with that!” _Wow, Keishin, why don’t you make even more of an ass of yourself, you moron._

Takeda’s mouth went round in an ‘oh’ shape. He blinked for a few seconds, as if recalibrating. “Okay,” he said softly.

“Cool,” Keishin grinned. “We can do this, then? You and me?”

Takeda nodded, then blushed, as if talking about them getting together was fine in a legalese, technical writing kind of way, but the minute it was honest and in an open, direct-eye-contact kind of way, only then was it a reason to get all shy.

“Amazing,” Keishin said, knees bending with glee. He stubbed out his cigarette and leaned in closer to Takeda. He had to hold himself back, in case any kids or parents were around. “Then how about we go out for dinner and drinks? You free tomorrow?”

Takeda blinked fast. “I–“ he smiled. “Yes. I believe I am, Ukai-kun.”

Keishin grinned and his heart did a little jig inside his chest. “Awesome.”

* * *

All he had to do was get through Friday, that’s all. It really wasn’t a tall order. So why the _fuck_ did it feel like an insurmountable task meant for men with stronger wills? Time dragged on as Keishin had the kids run themselves ragged for two hours straight. It's like time itself was meaningless. 

Takeda, however, was as normal as he always seemed: giving pointers to the managers, taking notes, and pepping the team up with clapping and shouts of encouragement. Keishin felt like a feral wolf loping in circles around the court, his tongue lolling wildly in anticipation. He was excited, sure, but this was a bit much. It was going to be dinner and some drinks, not some indulgent dirty fantasy come to life. What was wrong with him?

He’d had to jack off again that morning just to curb his dumb brain's desires. Hell, he’d been jacking off more than usual anyway just to curb the weird dreams. He could do this. Get through the volleyball stuff, go home, shower and meet Takeda for dinner. Easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy.

But then, as if called on by the deities of mischief, Tanaka and Nishinoya began to act like idiots. They always got like this at the end of the week: crazy and loud and obnoxious. It was about time something truly stupid came round to bite them in the ass.

“Takeda-sensei!” Yachi yelled.

“Eh?” Takeda looked up just in time to see a wild volleyball heading straight for his face.

Keishin was too slow, too far to do anything about it. Takeda leaned back awkwardly and stumbled as the ball thwacked past him and bounced off the gym wall. It rebounded and hit him in the gut. Takeda grunted and slipped, falling sideways.

“Takeda!” Keishin yelped and scrambled across the court

The sensei hit the ground and flopped there for a second. Then he groaned and opened his eyes. Keishin crouched down beside him. “Sensei, you okay? Did you hit your head?”

“Oh,” Takeda went limp. “No, I’m okay.”

Keishin frowned, “You sure?”

“Yes, yes,” Takeda smiled and took off his glasses to rub at his eyes. “Just tripped.”

“Hm,” Keishin huffed. Then he twisted on his feet, rounding on the group of idiots on the court. “Tanaka!” he yelled, rage seeping into every syllable.

“Eep!” Tanaka yelped. “Sorry coach! Sorry, sensei! It was a mistake!”

“This is what _happens_ when you act like fucking idiots!” Keishin barked, eyes flashing.

Shimizu bent down on Takeda’s other side to help him up.

“Oh, ouch.”

Keishin paused his tirade and turned back to see Takeda wincing. “Oh, my ankle.”

“What’s wrong with his ankle?” Keishin heard Nishinoya whisper in a scared voice.

Keishin’s brain went all red and hot inside his skull. _These fucking children!_

“I think it’s sprained,” Takeda hissed. He reached for his trouser leg and tugged it up. Then he pushed at his sock, revealing a pale and rapidly swelling ankle.

“Oh shit,” Tanaka whispered. “We’re dead.”

“Tell my mother I loved her,” Nishinoya wailed.

“Sensei, are you okay?” Hinata jogged over with wide, curious eyes.

“He is _not_ okay!” Keishin snapped. “Everyone! Ten laps around the school! And you can blame Tanaka and Nishinoya because they never listen when I warn them about how their stupid antics can get someone hurt! Now look! Your sensei might have a busted foot!”

“Okay,” Shimizu was saying. “I can go get the nurse. She might still be around.”

“No, I think it was a sprain,” Takeda muttered. “It’s not broken.”

“But sensei–” she murmured.

“It’s fine,” Takeda said, trying to get up. He faltered and Keishin had to grab his elbows to assist him to his feet.

Keishin twisted and glared at his team with fire blazing from his eyeballs. “Twenty. Laps. _NOW_.” There was no volume in his voice, just pure, unadulterated death threatening their life spans. The team backed away from him as a group and scrambled over one another to get out the door as fast as possible.

* * *

“I’m so sorry, Ukai-kun,” Takeda said for the umpteenth time.

“It’s fine,” Ukai said. He looked down the row of squat townhouses that lined the street. “Which one’s yours?” They’d argued back at the school about the best way to get Takeda home safely. In the end, they’d flagged down the vice-principal, a man Keishin had only heard about through the kids on the team. He had been distressed enough for all of them upon seeing Takeda limping, his weight being carried by Asahi and Keishin. Thank god he'd acquiesced and driven them here.

“The one with the navy door,” Takeda muttered morosely. “Not the teal door.”

Keishin didn’t want to break the sensei’s illusion of him being someone who knew the difference between those two colours, so he stayed quiet and carried Takeda down the street, one arm around his ribs, the other holding the hand that looped around Keishin’s neck.

“Here?” this particular door looked navy to Keishin, though he questioned what constituted ‘navy’ and what differentiated it from other blues he should be able to spot from fifty metres.

“Yes,” Takeda said. He hopped on his good foot and dug around in the bag slung over Keishin’s shoulder. “Keys. In here.” He pulled out a massive handful of metal.

“Wow,” Keishin blinked, “you, uh, open a lot of doors, sensei?”

“No,” Takeda said, thumbing through the massive bunch of keys, presumably looking for the right one that would magically unlock his _navy_ front door. “I just keep forgetting to get rid of older keys. I still have the set from my parents’ place and my previous apartments.”

While he searched for the right key, Keishin looked over the townhouse in front of them. It had a narrow entry with a small path leading up to the door. Plain, simple, nothing too fancy.

“Here we go,” Takeda huffed and leaned forward.

Keishin held him steady, “Let me.” He took the jangly mass of metal and unlocked the door, pushing it open with his foot.

Takeda exhaled and the two of them entered. It was brighter than Keishin expected. The walls were all white and the wide windows on the far wall let in streams of late afternoon sunlight. Takeda hopped across the threshold to the kitchen on the left.

“Oh my gosh,” he deflated, leaning against the grey countertop. “That was a lot of effort for nothing.”

“Well, you’re home safe now,” Keishin said, closing the door behind him. The lock snicked into place.

He watched Takeda fumble about, trying to get across the small kitchen which was really just a corner of the apartment’s first floor. On the other side of a small table was the living room.

“Oh, are you kidding me?” Keishin groaned. “You have the same _couch_ as me? Noooo, senseeiii.” He screamed internally, raining terror down on the dumb furniture manufacturer that duped millions of people into buying their crummy stupid-small couches.

Takeda laughed and hopped over to said abomination before flopping onto it. “Yes?”

“I thought you’d at least have better taste than me, sensei.”

“Well,” Takeda looked over the back of the couch at him and grinned, “it was very affordable.”

“ _And_ you’re cheap?” Keishin shook his head and tutted. "Disappointing." He walked around the room, taking in the tidy layout and simple decorations. The other corner near the glass door housed a small desk piled high with teacher paraphernalia: books, stacks of schoolwork, pens, a laptop, some cables and a bendy-necked lamp.

The house was small but tidy, much like Keishin expected. He looked down at Takeda who had been watching him this whole time. The look on the man’s face had Keishin cocking an eyebrow. “You look unhappy, Takeda-san. Busted foot got you down? Oh, medicine!" Keishin snapped his fingers, "You got some around here? Gotta take the swelling down.” Shimizu had done an excellent job of wrapping Takeda’s foot, which was great because Keishin didn’t know jack shit about medical stuff and this was probably his one and only heads-up to get that training added to his list of to-dos if he intended on coaching breakable, whiny teenagers in the future.

“In the bathroom upstairs,” Takeda muttered, sinking into his tracksuit jacket like a tortoise retreating from an enemy. He’d hung his coat over the bag Keishin was carrying, so at least that was accounted for in case Takeda had any more accidents in the night and needed to be whisked away into the cold.

Keishin dropped the many bags and supplies he’d picked up on the way into the vice-principal’s car onto the floor. “Okay, I’m gonna hop upstairs, get you some meds and we’ll go from there, ok?”

“Mrr,” Takeda hummed.

Keishin loped his way up the tight staircase, curiosity urging him to poke his nose into every nook and cranny in the house. The bathroom was pristine and obviously fairly newly renovated, going by the modern sink cabinet and shower-head.

The medicine was in the mirrored cabinet, as expected. He grabbed a myriad of bottles and denied himself the right to find Takeda’s bedroom. That would be rude. Fun, but rude.

Downstairs, Takeda had burrowed deeper into himself, his legs now thrown across the couch. Keishin moved to the kitchen and dug around for a container. He poured a glass of water, tipped out a couple of pills into his palm and went back to Takeda’s limp form.

“Here,” he crouched down beside the man and offered up his gifts of hydration and pain relief. Takeda sat up on his elbows and did as he was asked. He flopped back down with probably more drama than was necessary.

Keishin stayed there a moment longer, amused.

“I’m sorry,” Takeda said, not looking at him.

“For what, exactly?” Keishin settled down on the floor, his knees creaking audibly.

“For not being able to go on our–go out to dinner. With you.”

 _Cute_ , Keishin thought, catching the dropped word that he suspected might be ‘date’. “That’s okay,” he said. “You twisted your soft, fragile, ballerina ankle. I get it.”

Takeda scowled at him, which really only made him look like a puffed up Pomeranian. “Not funny. Ballerinas are tough as shit.”

Keishin grinned, “Oh, really? Hey, don’t worry. There’s plenty more days left in this lifetime to go on dates.” Keishin winked and Takeda really did go pink in the cheeks at Keishin’s use of _that_ word. What an easy sell.

“You-you can stay for dinner,” Takeda said, sitting up. He shifted on the couch. “We can order in food.”

Keishin pondered that. On one hand, he’d get to spend some time with Takeda and get back all the missed opportunities to flirt. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his hands to himself.

“I dunno,” he murmured, looking at Takeda softly.

“Well, I’ll decide for you, then,” Takeda said, mouth set in a firm line. “My treat. You can even pick a movie. Dinner and a movie.”

Keishin could see now that Takeda really did want to have this date, really wanted to spend even just a couple more hours with Keishin. Well, wasn’t that sweet? “All right,” he sighed, “but I’m still holding you to a real dinner outside, in the real world, sensei.”

“Absolutely,” Takeda grinned. “Now where’s my phone? I know a great sushi delivery place around the corner.”

* * *

One monster-hunting action flick and a stack of sashimi later and Keishin realized he’d spent over three hours inside Takeda’s home and hadn’t even made a move on the poor guy. He must really like the dork, huh?

Keishin, after a toilet run, came back to the couch with a fresh glass of water. He set it down on the small table between them and the TV. Takeda was perched on the left side of the couch, making room for Keishin and his sprawl. Keishin sat back down and pulled Takeda’s feet into his lap. He tried not to be annoyed by the fact Takeda could actually spread his legs on the stupid seat. What luxury.

Keishin had spent the last hour or so just mindlessly massaging Takeda’s ankles like they were stress toys. One was thick and bulky under the bandages, but the other was dainty and soft to the touch, bony underneath.

“Ukai-kun,” Takeda murmured as the movie credits started to roll.

“It’s Keishin, remember?”

Takeda made a face, “I know that. It’s–it’s difficult to say it so informally.”

“It’s my name,” Keishin raised a brow, digging a thumb into the soft space behind Takeda’s ankle bone.

“Anyway,” Takeda blustered on, “I wanted to ask something.”

“What is it, oh wise one of the jelly ankle bones?”

Takeda kicked at him with the bandaged foot. It was like a marshmallow coming for his head. Keishin choked back a snort and evaded the flailing appendage.

“I wanted to ask–“ Takeda said, then cut off. He pulled his legs away from Keishin, curled in on himself before awkwardly getting to one knee on the sofa cushion. He scooted closer to Keishin, hand steadied on the back of the couch.

“Hm?” Keishin blinked lazily.

“I wondered,” Takeda was nice and close now. Helowered himself back to sit on his one good leg, the other one propped on the floor. “Well, I’d _hoped_ –“ he sniffed and scratched at his eyebrow.

Keishin’s hand came up to rub against Takeda’s side. He was warm through his t-shirt. “You’d hoped?” He wasn’t going to make it easy, no-sir _ree_.

“If–like last time,” Takeda said, then cleared his throat. “I would like to kiss you.”

“Ah,” Keishin’s heart did a belly flop. His smile slid slowly across his lips until his teeth showed. He was _very_ happy to know that last time hadn't been a fluke and Takeda really was a little pushy. Something Keishin was very into, apparently. “I see.” He kept rubbing at Takeda’s ribs.

“Yes,” Takeda said, scooting closer, “So I’m going to, okay?”

“Okay,” Keishin murmured.

Takeda came in for the kiss and Keishin was _thrilled_ by this turn of events. He’d written off any and all shenanigans for next time when the sensei was less broken and bruised. But if sensei was bruised and willing, _well_ , who was Keishin to say no to him?

Takeda kissed him with purpose, pressing his lips against Keishin for a few moments before his tongue made an appearance.

“Mm,” Keishin perked up and tilted his head, angling their mouths together so that their tongues could play some. Takeda gave a huff, a soft exhale of air that definitely wasn’t anything that should be heard outside of a bedroom. Keishin’s response was immediate. He wanted _more._

Takeda mumbled something against him.

“Whassat?” Keishin pried his lips away. At this proximity he could see very faint freckles dotted all over Takeda’s cheekbones, like hidden stars in the morning sky.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all week,” Takeda said breathily. He looped both arms around Keishin’s neck and tugged him in again.

“Mmf!” Keishin gaped and fell into the kisses with a fervour. “Really?” he got out between bouts of tongue and gasps for air. _Like, all week?_

“Yes,” Takeda nipped at his lip. “It was very difficult for me not to somehow want to steal you for a minute or twenty. But I couldn’t.”

“Not in front of the kids,” Keishin grinned, feeling Takeda’s lips against his teeth. Somehow Takeda had moved and was now in his lap on the stupidly small couch. a whole lapful of Takeda-san. Wonderful.

“Not in front of the team,” Takeda repeated. He kissed Keishin slowly, his eyes closing as goosebumps rippled over Keishin’s neck and up into his hairline. Keishin grunted. Takeda’s fingers were in his hair and his short fingernails were there, scratching. It felt fucking _amazing._

“Takeda-san,” Keishin whispered, pulling back, “you gotta slow down or else I’m gonna zip right past the point of no return.”

“So?” Takeda said, staring into his eyes.

Keishin almost swallowed his own tongue. “ _Sooo_ ,” he got out, “you’re injured. And I mean, we don’t know if this is really what you–“

“I would greatly like you to stay over tonight,” Takeda said calmly, like he was ordering an Uber to take him to the airport. “If you don’t want to do _stuff_ , that’s okay.”

“Stuff…” Keishin raised a brow in amusement.

“I mean, ideally, we don’t have sex yet,” Takeda said, again as if he were talking about rescheduling a video conference. “I’m still unsure about all of that anal business–“ Keishin choked, “–but I’ve been thinking about you all week and I’d like it if you stayed over. If you can. Want to, I mean.”

Keishin rubbed both hands up and down Takeda’s sides, feeling the warmth of him beneath his fingers.

“You sure?” Keishin murmured. He lipped at Takeda’s mouth, licked at him, tasting.

“Yes,” Takeda said with a lot more conviction than Keishin had ever had when entangled in someone else's arms. Then again, when Keishin got going he couldn’t tell his dick from a door handle. _So._

“Okay,” Keishin said, “but I don’t have pyjamas.” He smirked and nipped at Takeda's lips.

“Hm,” Takeda pretended to think about that while he kissed Keishin languidly, taking his time. “I suppose there’s nothing for it." He pulled back, eyes dark with intent. "You’ll have to sleep in your birthday suit.”

“I see where this is going,” Keishin chuckled. “Tell me more, sensei.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos, guys! :D  
> Finish line is fast-approaching!


	10. 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the delay. Let's just file that under pandemic brain, shall we?  
> Here is the final chapter! ^__^

Keishin woke to the sound of his cellphone. He groaned and rolled over, arm reaching out for his bedside.

He smacked something and the something made a sound.

“Ow.”

“Eh?” he sat up.

Oh. _Takeda._ Keishin stared down at the man sleeping beside him. Takeda was mumbling in his sleep, his hair a mess of curls on his pillow.

Keishin looked around the tiny bedroom. It was neat and tidy and excruciatingly minimal in decoration, the wall bearing only one floating shelf with a handful of what looked to be books and notepads.

He sat up and twisted out of the bed and began digging around for his pants. “Shit, fuck,” he muttered as his phone flip-flopped onto the rug. He snatched it up and hit the green accept button.

“Hello? What?”

“Kei! Oh, you answered!”

“Yuusuke?” Keishin frowned and yawned. “What is it? Why’re you calling so early?”

“It’s not early, man, it’s eleven. Your mom’s been worried sick. She said you were supposed to come pick her up to drive down to the fish market.”

“Oh _shit!”_ Keishin sat bolt upright. “Shit! I forgot!”

“Yeah, apparently,” Yuusuke huffed in his ear. “Your parents went to your apartment but you weren’t there so they phoned me; and probably everyone else in town.”

“Crap,” Keishin moaned. He twisted on the bed and found Takeda watching him with sleepy eyes, covers crumpled around his neck. The man yawned slowly, like a kitten waking up from slumber.

“So where the hell are you?” Yuusuke said. “Your mom was freaking out, man.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll call her. I forgot. That’s all.”

“Hey, you haven’t answered my question,” Yuusuke pressed. “Where did you–“

“Bye!” Keishin said loudly and tapped the disconnect button. He dropped his phone onto the blanket and groaned, rubbing at his eyes.

“Forgot something?” Takeda murmured.

Keishin looked down at him, wishing his morning was going in another direction. God, Takeda looked enticing, lying there in a t-shirt, all rumpled and messy and soft. Keishin’s gut tightened when the memory of last night came back to him. They hadn’t gotten up to very much, but there had been a whole lot of making out and groping before they both passed out, too tired to really follow through on anything.

He glanced at his morning boner which was making a poorly timed appearance.”I gotta call my mom,” he sighed, picking up his phone again. “I was supposed to go to the fish market. Completely spaced.”

“Oh,” Takeda sat up while Keishin called his parents’ place.

“Ma, yeah, sorry,” Keishin got up and kicked at his clothing which was scattered on the floor. It was all wrinkled to hell. “I know, I know. Okay, I’m on my way. Yeah, yeah.”

He turned to Takeda, who had clambered out of bed and was walking around to a closet set into the corner of the room.

“Give me twenty minutes,” Keishin said, eyes drawn to the pale legs sticking out of Takeda’s shorts. “Okay, fifteen. _Ma,_ okay, _all right._ ” When he had convinced his distressed mother that he was really fine and not murdered, his body dumped in a crevasse somewhere, he signed off.

“Here,” Takeda held out some clothing. “It might be a bit small, but it’s clean. If you want a quick shower, be my guest.”

Keishin wavered. He moved quickly, shifting around the bed. He took Takeda by the wrist and pulled him close. “I will if you will with me.” He grinned.

Takeda blinked, then smiled right back.

“Okay, deal.”

—

Okay so the shower took a little longer than five minutes, what with Keishin’s new obsession with Takeda sudsing up his hands and rubbing them over Keishin like he was some automated, fast-working car-wash intent on getting Keishin spic-and-span and out the door smelling fresh as a daisy. Takeda had the best of intentions, but Keishin was a _dog_ and he’d really wanted to get a proper look, get his hands on Takeda for real, in the daylight. But Takeda wasn’t having any of that. He whipped Keishin into action, getting him washed and dry in under two minutes.

They didn’t slip and die, so that was a bonus. Plus, Takeda dug out an old medical walking boot he’d saved from the last time he’d busted his foot, apparently slipping on an icy trail.

“Genius,” Keishin said. “Much as I like carrying you around, sensei–“ the memory of a slippery-soaked Takeda still fresh in his mind, “–you walking is you mobile.”

Takeda blew a raspberry and sat down on the bed to get dressed, his twisted ankle still looking a little swollen. “I know. I need to get around anyway.”

Five minutes later than planned, Keishin rocked up to his parent’s place to find his mother waiting, shopping bags slung over both shoulders.

“Oh, Kei-kun,” Ukai Wakumi smiled up at her son. “You brought a friend?”

“Uh, yeah,” Keishin rubbed at his still damp hair as he and Takeda clambered out of his tiny Toyota. “Ma, this is Takeda Ittetsu. We work together.”

“Oh, from the volleyball team!” Wakumi smiled wide. People said Keishin got his smile from her and his temperament from his father, which tracked.

“A pleasure to meet you.“ Takeda bowed and smiled right back. He looked bright and fresh in a blue sweater and jeans, like some preppy kid from the city. “I hear the fish market is bustling on weekends.”

“Oh, is it ever!” Wakumi said loudly. “We usually try to get there early to avoid the rush.” She gave her one and only son a _look_. Keishin made a face.

“I’m sorry I’m late, okay?” He whined. “Life gets in the way sometimes.”

“Hmm,” Wakumi narrowed her eyes at her son, then looked at Takeda. “So it does. So it does.”

—

“I’m so sorry you had to endure that,” Keishin said after they finally dropped his mom off at the store. He turned to Takeda who had been sitting in the backseat the whole way back from the market.

“It was fine,” Takeda said with a grin. “Your mother is very spirited.”

“Yeah, spirited,” Keishin rubbed his eyes. “That’s the word I’d use and not ‘a hellion in search of a discount.’”

Takeda chuckled, “It was good. Fun to see how it works from the sales side of the store.”

Ukai twisted fully in his seat. “Hey, you wanna get some lunch? Unless you got other plans already?”

Takeda smiled wider somehow, like being with Keishin actually made him happy. “I’d love to.”

—

Keishin was tired and he was grumpy and he was horny. The combination of all three made him want to punch the wall of the gymnasium.

“Higher, Kageyama!” he barked, which got him an icy glare.

“I didn’t need to get–“ Kageyama began.

“I don’t care,” Keishin snapped, “you jump higher next time or I make you wear weights.”

Kageyama’s eyes flashed, but he didn’t say anything back, which was good for his longevity.

Keishin stared at the clipboard Shimizu had handed him but the letters were blurring the longer he tried to make sense of them.

Two weeks.

Two weeks and he and Takeda had ostensibly been dancing around each other while trying to balance training and the whole work/life situation.

With the store and exams and volleyball, the two of them had run out of opportunities to hang out and it was driving Keishin up the wall.

He hadn’t intended to fall for the dork. That was the problem. He maybe got to see Takeda once every weekday in the regular season but with the end of the year fast approaching, their time together had become severely rushed. Normally, it wouldn’t matter, except now whenever Keishin caught sight of Takeda, his heart would start dancing the Macarena and he could _feel_ the dumb flush that liked to crawl across his cheeks, making him want to grin like a fool.

He couldn’t be smiling like a moron in front of the kids. He couldn’t put either himself or Takeda under any kind of scrutiny, so he had to play it cool.

It was _so_ difficult! He just wanted to grab Takeda and burrow into his bed and hide them away from the oncoming winter and get frisky as hell.

They were so close to getting down and dirty, Keishin could almost taste it.

“Coach?” Keishin blinked and looked over the top of the clipboard. Shimizu was watching him. “What do you think so far?” she asked levelly.

“Ah,” Keishin grimaced, “sorry, my head’s in the clouds today. I didn’t read it.”

Shimizu took the clipboard from him and held it to her chest. She quirked an eyebrow, smiled and walked away.

He really wished he could read her. She was as inscrutable as ever, yet she somehow still managed to make him feel like she was watching.

—

It was their final practise before the winter holidays and Keishin was _done._ He’d run the team through their drills, told them to keep up-to-date on the international games, and handed out meal planning for those who asked — without causing bodily harm.

Takeda was giving the team their last ego-boosting pep talk. He was finally out of his walking cast, ankle healed up and strong. “–And you’ve outdone them all,” he was saying, his cheeks pink even while he stood there bundled up in his winter gear. “You can outdo a few more, I say.”

“Yeah!” Tanaka roared and threw up his arms.

“Damn right we will!” Nishinoya said.

“Can we go now?” Tsukishima mumbled, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Sugawara.

“Sensei?” Hinata raised his hand. They were all ready to head out, their coats zipped, hats on and their bags packed, “Will we be able to come train over the holidays?”

Takeda chuckled, “No, Hinata. The school will be closed. Take this time to rest. Let your muscles relax and grow.”

Hinata’s mouth screwed up like a squiggle in his face. Kageyama was making the exact same expression. _Two bratty peas in a bratty pod_. Keishin wanted to roll his eyes but refrained; Not while Takeda was talking.

“If that’s all,” Takeda grinned, clapped his hands together and bowed. “Then I want to wish you all a happy holiday, however you plan to spend it.”

“You too, sensei!” the kids cried out.

“All right, everyone out,” Sawamura barked. “It’s getting dark.”

“Uss!”

Keishin watched them all troop out of the gym with a wry smile on his lips. He might actually miss these gremlins and their high energy. Then he saw Kageyama kick Hinata in the ass, sending him flying.

_Hm. Maybe not._

—

“So you’re officially on break?” Yuusuke said loudly. He grinned at Takeda and clinked their beer glasses together.

The restaurant was rammed, with all the locals getting in one last night of revelry before everything shut down. Yuusuke and Shimada got time off from their evening shifts and met Keishin and Takeda not long after the school had closed up. Keishin had a sneaking suspicion that they had inserted themselves because they wanted to ogle and mock his attempts to woo Takeda. They found it very amusing to watch him act like a damn fool.

“Ah, yes, mostly,” Takeda smiled. He pushed his glasses up his nose. His hair was damp from the snow and was curling around his eyebrows and ears. “I have some final assignments to grade. Some students never quite make deadlines–“

“Ah, sounds like Kei-kun,” Shimada snorted into his beer. “Never handed anything in on time, ever.”

Keishin glared at him. “And? What’s your point?”

Shimada grinned, “No point. Just letting sensei know that there’s hope for delinquents after all.”

“None of my students are delinquents,” Takeda said firmly. “They all have potential. It’s my job to just guide them, help them.”

“Man, you really should have been our teacher in school,” Yuusuke sighed and sat back.

Keishin rolled his eyes. _Suck-ups._ He swigged his own beer, licking the foam off his upper lip. Takeda was watching him. Keishin leaned sideways and winked at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Takeda smiled. His round cheeks were still flushed pink from the cold winter air.

When Keishin looked back at his beer, he caught his friends watching them with smug looks on their faces. “Don’t even start–“ Keishin said, pointing a finger at them.

“I fuckin’ _told you -_ you two would get together!” Yuusuke crowed, slapping the table.

“We did tell you,” Shimada nodded. “Let us have that.”

“Would you both stop acting like you invented relationships!” Keishin barked. “Stop trying to get in here.” He waved his hand between himself and Takeda, “There’s no room.”

“Oh, I’ll bet,” Yuusuke winked and laughed.

Keishin ground his teeth. His friends were so annoying. They’d recently been privy to Keishin’s drunken ramblings about how soft Takeda’s belly was, and about how Keishin was falling harder and harder for the teacher every day he saw him smile. Keishin has many regrets from his time on earth, but divulging his innermost drunken, lovesick feelings to his best friends was surely the biggest regret of them all.

“He’s a softy, you know,” Shimada said to Takeda. “Not as tough and badass as he looks.”

Takeda chuckled and sipped at his beer. “I know.”

“ _What?_ ” Keishin turned on Takeda. “I’m not a _softy_! I’m a strong independent man with a will of iron.”

All three of them made a kermit face. It was extremely annoying.

“Can’t believe you’re on their side now,” he grumbled, slouching down in the bench seat.

Takeda carefully slid his hand between them and clasped Keishin’s hand in his. It made Keishin’s heart trip a little. He rubbed his thumb over the soft skin on the back of Takeda’s hand. “I like that you’re a softy,” Takeda grinned.

Yuusuke and Shimada howled with laughter and called for more drinks so they could celebrate Keishin’s internal meltdown.

—

“You’re a menace,” Keishin sighed, his breath puffing like clouds in front of his face.

“Your friends are growing on me,” Takeda chuckled. He was wrapped up like a burrito, his glasses visible between the brim of his knitted hat and his thick scarf. “Plus, I want them to like me.”

“Hm,” Keishin rumbled and sucked on his cigarette. His left hand was holding Takeda’s as they walked down the snow-spattered street. “They like you enough.”

“They’re funny,” Takeda said as they turned down the street, their boots crunching loudly in the night air. “And they obviously adore you.”

Keishin grunted again. “Adore making fun of me.”

“I’m sure you each get turns to mock one another, right?” Takeda tilted his head to look up at Keishin.

Keishin couldn’t help smirking. “Yeah, I guess. Couple months ago Yuusuke bombed on an attempt to chat up this woman we used to go to school with. Utter failure. Ahhh…” Keishin gave a soft laugh, “That was fun to watch.”

“See?” Takeda murmured. “You three have a system in place. It obviously works.”

“Hm,” Keishin hummed and finished off his cigarette. He tossed it into a snowbank, feeling bad for a second, knowing that once the snow melted in the spring, there would probably be a wet, soggy pile of cigarette butts that accumulated over the winter. _Ah, well._

He pulled out his packet of mints and popped two into his mouth, trying to be as nonchalant as possible about it. He hadn’t really been the kind of guy to carry mints or gum, but if Takeda was around, Keishin wanted to smell and taste less like a smokestack and more like some decent guy who was worth Takeda’s time.

They walked and talked, like they always did, the familiarity between them having grown immensely over the last few weeks.

“So you’re leaving for Sendai on the twenty-third?” Keishin said, kicking at the snow piled up at the crosswalk.

“That’s right,” Takeda said, pulling at Keishin’s hand as they crossed the street. He was so diligent at looking both ways, it made Keishin want to pick him up and run away with him. “My mother’s excited to see me, and my sister will be visiting too.”

“That’s nice,” Keishin murmured. “We don’t really do much until the new year.”

“Same with my family,” Takeda chuckled. “My mom’s only recently decided we all need to be home for the new year. We didn’t used to bother much before. Drives my father insane.”

Keishin watched as Takeda rambled on about his sister, how she too worked outside of Sendai, how her business was doing. He could listen to Takeda talk for hours. He did sometimes, when they ever had the chance to just hang out, which hadn’t happened in a very long time.

They turned down the long quiet stretch of road that led to Keishin’s building.

“–And her new dog is giant, so I have no idea how she’s going to manage the drive home with him in the back.” Takeda said.

Keishin pulled Takeda’s hand. The other man blinked and turned just as Keishin bent down and tugged him close, arm around Takeda’s waist. Keishin yanked the scarf down, out of the way, and kissed him.

“Umf!” Takeda gasped, stiff only for a moment until relaxing into Keishin’s arm.

Keishin was gentle, just pressing his lips to Takeda’s, letting him know that he’d wanted to do this all night, all week, all month.

“Oh,” Takeda’s breath misted between them. He blinked, his glasses fogging up.

Keishin chuckled, “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Takeda said and pulled at his glasses. He watched as the mist slowly dissipated, then put them back on. He then got up onto tip-toes and kissed Keishin back. It was delicate and soft and absolutely not enough.

Keishin rumbled deep in his chest. “You comin’ in?” he mouthed against Takeda’s lips. “Please say yes.”

Takeda smiled and nodded, “Yes.”

—

Keishin may have been tired and angry and horny, but he hadn’t realized _how_ horny until he finally got Takeda into his apartment.

“Mm,” Keishin licked into Takeda’s mouth while trying to tear off his own stupid coat. Takeda was stumbling backwards, kicking off his boots. He tripped at the step-up from the genkan, Keishin only just catching him in time. “Don’t break anything,” he laughed. “I got plans for you,” he bent down to pull off his own socks.

“Oh?” Takeda flushed and finally got his left boot off. He shrugged out of his coat, letting it fall to the floor. Keishin tugged at the man’s wool hat and threw it somewhere across the room. “Surely you’ve been too busy building game plays to be planning anything for me?”

“Oh ho,” Keishin grinned and bent down to scoop Takeda up into his arms. He carried the man across the living room, bypassing the messy coffee table and scattered laundry lying all over the place. “I can multitask, you know. Game plays, Takeda plans. I got sex on the brain, you know.” He slammed his hand on the light switch, and the one lamp inside his bedroom came to life.

Takeda was a solid weight in his arms and he was scratching his fingers through Keishin’s hair, just the way he liked it. “I feel special,” he smiled and kissed Keishin.

Keishin paused just inside his bedroom and kissed Takeda back, their tongues tasting and swirling together. He shifted his grip and purposefully grabbed Takeda’s butt.

“Oh,” Takeda breathed out and pulled back. His glasses were askew and his hair was a mess of curls.

“You ready?” Keishin said.

“For the Ukai-kun show?” Takeda smiled and took his glasses off.

Keishin inhaled slowly, then dropped Takeda onto the bed. He bounced once and laughed before crawling up the bed and depositing his glasses on the one bedside cubby Keishin had. _Safety first._

Keishin got one knee on the bed and pulled his shirt off, throwing it aside and going for his track pants next.

Takeda was watching him, looking hungry. That was certainly helping Keishin’s ego seeing that look on the normally serene sensei’s face.

Keishin pushed his pants down and kicked them away.

“C’mon then,” he said and slowly moved up the bed. “Off.”

Takeda stammered and went to remove his sweater. It got caught when his button-down tried to roll up with it. “Eh,” Takeda squeaked, wriggling around like a trapped gerbil. “Help?”

Keishin laughed and scooted closer on his knees. Once he got Takeda out of both offending garments, he sat back and watched Takeda undo his slacks. It wasn’t sensual or a show of any sort, but it was doing all kinds of things for Keishin.

Keishin pulled Takeda’s (blue sushi-patterned) socks off in quick succession.

“Okay, phew,” Takeda exhaled and settled back on the pillow. “That was a lot of exercise for no reason.”

“Hmm,” Keishin loomed in closer and kissed Takeda. He just couldn’t stop. Takeda’s lips were so soft, so inviting. “Is exercise really so bad?”

“Depends,” Takeda pulled Keishin down on top of him. “Will you make me run laps around the block?”

“Wouldn’t dare,” Keishin snorted and dug his fingers into Takeda’s side. The other man gasped and twitched away.

“Ticklish.”

Keishin hummed some more and kissed Takeda’s cheek, then his chin. “I’ve been thinking about doing this for so long.”

“Ah,” Takeda hiccuped when Keishin sucked at a spot on his neck.

“Thought I was gonna have to walk around half hard forever,” Keishin went on. “I think I’ve got it under control, and then I see you at school and it just revs my engine all over again.”

“Oh,” is all Takeda has in him. He’s breathing heavily, watching as Keishin moves down to his chest, stopping to nibble at a nipple before sliding lower.

“Been thinking what it’d be like to get on my knees,” Keishin hummed, nipping at soft belly skin. “Like, what if I just dropped to the court floor and yanked your–“

“Not at school, surely,” Takeda breathed out shakily.

Keishin chuckled and looked up through his loosening long hair. “Why not? Sacred ground?”

Takeda was flushed all the way down his neck and chest. He looked fucking amazing, all turned on for Keishin. He was finally getting some time for this, getting Takeda to himself.

“I–“ Takeda laughed, “No, I mean, you think that while we’re at school?”

“All the damn time,” Keishin said. He propped himself on his elbows. “ _All_ the time. Constantly. It’s terrible.”

“No, it’s…” Takeda smiled and scratched his fingers through Keishin’s hair. “It’s nice. I didn’t think you thought all that.”

“What?” Keishin barked. “How can I _not?_ You’re walking around in your nerdy outfits with your iPad or whatever, tip-tapping your notes into cyberspace while talking to the kids like they’re not fuckin’ demon-children sent from hell to torture us.”

Takeda’s expression softened. He pushed at the hair elastic keeping Keishin’s hair pulled back. Keishin felt the weird buzz that signalled blood zooming back to his mistreated follicles. “I think a lot of the same things,” he murmured.

“What? That the kids are all sent from hell expressly to make my blood pressure skyrocket?” Keishin said.

“No,” Takeda scooted down the bed, making Keishin lift himself off the mattress so Takeda’s body could shimmy underneath him. “I mean,” Takeda smiled up at him, arms tugging Keishin down to settle on him. “I think about you all the time too. Your butt always looks so good in your pants. And sometimes you bend over to pick up balls and I get very distracted.”

“Oh?” Keishin’s mouth curved into a one-sided sly grin. “Go on.” He could feel Takeda was hard beneath him. _What a rush._

“Well,” Takeda shifted his hips and Keishin inhaled sharply. “I like it when you show them how to move, the way to jump from foot to foot, especially when you’re in shorts. You have such nice legs.”

“Shit,” Keishin nuzzled Takeda’s neck. “Don't go being nice to me now. You know that’s my one crazy turn-on, sensei.”

“Being nice?” Takeda laughed.

“Yeah,” Keishin pulled back and stared down at the man beneath him. He was so soft, so kind, so very outside of Keishin’s sphere, it felt a little weird to see him in Keishin’s bed.

“You have nice legs,” Takeda said slowly. “And a round bum.” Keishin spluttered and laughed. “And you have such shiny hair. And broad shoulders, and warm skin. I always want to bite you.”

Keishin blinked. _Shit_. He was really gone on this guy. It was like a kettle bell landing on the gym floor padding — solid and unyielding.

“You want to _bite_ me, huh?” Keishin smiled. Then he gasped, eyes going wide when a hand snuck its way to his ass and squeezed.

“Right here,” Takeda murmured.

“Oh, sensei,” Keishin said, “I think I can accommodate that one.”

—

Keishin was horrified to find that Takeda was _very_ adept at giving blowjobs. It was mind-blowing to look down and find a riot of curls and Takeda’s mouth wrapped around his hard cock. It was like twelve different fantasies crashing together, making Keishin a gasping mess of a man.

Takeda was so good in fact that Keishin had to physically pull him off his cock with the threat that if Keishin came, their fun would be stifled really early.

“You - _haa -_ cannot be serious,” Keishin gasped and fell back on the bed, hand covering his eyes. “Where the fuck did you get a mouth like that?”

Takeda crawled back up Keishin's naked and flushed body. “I pay attention,” he said.

Keishin peeked out from under his hand only to be assaulted by the wide eyes and wet, red lips of one Takeda Ittetsu, bj-extraordinaire.

“You’re going to explain that later,” Keishin muttered, his mind flying to the possibilities. If Takeda didn’t suck cock ever, then how was he so good, so fast? Hell, Keishin’s first attempt had ended with him gagging and his partner firing off too soon because they’d both been too inexperienced to know better.

“You liked that?” Takeda wiped at his lips. _Holy shit, I’m going to die_ , Keishin thought wildly. His dick throbbed, wishing it could please get back to Takeda’s lips.

“Oh my god,” Keishin laughed.

Takeda was watching him. Keishin had started giving the man a nice lubed-up handy not ten minutes ago before being derailed but Takeda’s curiosity. Now they were both naked and hard and _still_ Keishin had no idea who was in charge.

“Do you want me on top?” Takeda said, head propped up on his hand, elbow on the mattress beside Keishin.

Keishin’s dick did actually jump then. He grunted and whined in his throat, the thought of Takeda climbing on top of him and sliding down onto his– he growled and flipped them, caging Takeda underneath him. “Oh no, kitten, we’ve got time for that another day. Tonight I’m going to lube you up, open you wide and fuck you nice and slow. How does that sound?”

Takeda breathed in slowly, then smiled. “Okay.”

“You sure?” Keishin nipped at his lips.

“Yes,” Takeda’s fingers scratched at Keishin’s ribs. “I’d like that very much, actually. I’ve been testing out some things; Stretching and using lubrication and such. It’s not as strange as I’d thought before, but I think, if we go slowly, I can manage your–“

Keishin rolled his hips and whined into Takeda’s neck. “Please, God.”

“Ukai-kun?” Takeda sounded startled. “Are you ok–“

“Yes,” Keishin said, muffled. “Let’s do this before my heart gives out.”

—

In the end Keishin did get his way. He worked Takeda open slowly, carefully, making sure to keep an eye out for any sore spots or flinching. But Takeda was excited and completely onboard the whole way through. There was an awkward fluster when Keishin had to go digging for an unexpired condom, but they got there eventually.

When Keishin sunk into Takeda - the moment he’d been having too many horny dreams about - Takeda had shivered with excitement.

It was slow going, but Keishin was gentle, soothing with words and hands. Takeda was a fretful mess the closer he got to climax, scratching at Keishin’s back, and biting at his own lips while his face got pinker and pinker. He was amazing.

Keishin held out until he could pull an orgasm from Takeda, his hands squeezing and sliding up and down Takeda’s perfect cock with ease. Once that was achieved, Keishin barely had to move before he finally let go and came too.

It was hot and sweaty and they were a gasping mess of limbs and bedsheets, but it was also total andutter bliss.

“Mhhh,” Keishin rubbed his face into Takeda’s cheek, nipping at his ear. “You are perfection.”

Takeda’s breathing was still a little rough, his bird-like chest rising and falling under Keishin. He carded the fingers of one hand through Keishin’s hair, while the other hand looped through the sheets to find Keishin’s hand. He twined their fingers together before answering.

“You were worth every second,” Takeda whispered, kissing Keishin’s hairline.

“Like you paid good money for me?” Keishin chuckled. He liked lying there, just coming down from it all.

“No,” Takeda murmured. “Like the way you are all the time. Worth it. Everything you do and everything you say has always been so forceful and true. I admire that about you, Ukai-kun. You’re steadfast in your moral code and the way you carry yourself.”

“What?” Keishin raised his head to scowl at Takeda.

Takeda was smiling. “I know you talk a lot about how being a volleyball coach for a high school team isn’t anything special. And you think staying here, in your hometown isn’t anything special.”

Keishin blinked.

Takeda took both hands and pressed them to Keishin’s cheeks. “You’re so unbelievably special, it makes my heart explode every time I see you.”

It was Keishin’s turn to blush, the heat crawling like wildfire over his neck and face.

“No, stop that,” he burrowed his face in Takeda’s neck. “Disgusting.”

Takeda chuckled. “Sorry - sentimentality. An aberration on my part.”

It felt like Keishin’s ribs were clenching tighter around them, closing Takeda in, right beside his beating heart. _Shit,_ had this nondescript, nerdy little sensei had his number all along? To be seen so clearly, so plainly was — well, it was startling.

Keishin wasn’t sure how he felt about it, but it wasn’t _bad._

Maybe this was where he was supposed to be all along. Maybe all he’d had to do was wait it out. Wait for the right moment to do something he loved, and find someone… well, someone special who liked him just the way he was, right _where_ he was.

“You’re a dork and I don’t know why I like you, but I do,” he mumbled.

“I know,” Takeda said, rubbing his hand over Keishin’s back. “It’s truly horrible, but I like you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading this little fic of mine. I enjoyed writing it immensely. Your comments and exuberance carried me through. :)


End file.
